


Purity Redux: Vivication

by Sueric



Series: Purity [16]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comedy, Complete, Drama, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hentai, Psychological Drama, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-02-05 04:33:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 74
Words: 274,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12787044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sueric/pseuds/Sueric
Summary: Fai Demyanov is no stranger to fighting to protect his birthright, but when an impromptu meeting leads to an unexpected journey, will he sink or swim ...?Continuation of the Purity fanfiction based in the InuYasha universe.**Unsolicited Critiques Will Be Deleted.**





	1. Prologue: Haze

~~ ** _Prologue_** ~~  
~ ** _Haze_** ~

 

~ _Jaffna, Sri Lanka_ ~  
~ _Demyanov Summer Home_ ~ 

~ _July 26, 2054_ ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Surveying the burnt remains, the skeletal frame of the family's summer home, a scant few miles from Jaffna, Sri Lanka, along the coast of the picturesque island, Faine Demyanov narrowed his gaze, eyes burning, stinging, from the ash and debris that still lingered, suspended in the air.  The understated brilliance of the coastal property brought a deeper sense of horror, of unspeakable atrocity, to the already strange sense of understanding that was just settling over him as he put together the things he knew.

 _The early morning phone call that hadn't made much sense: the trill of the ringtone that cut through the silence, broke through his sleep as he blinked and pushed himself up on his elbow, eyes bleary, head sluggish and thick . . . He'd stayed up too late the night before, spending the evening, cramming for the final exam of the summer philosophy course at the university that was scheduled to start promptly at nine a.m._ . . .

'What . . .?'

 _"H-Hello?" he mumbled, struggling for a semblance of coherence that he simply wasn't able to grasp as he clumsily, almost stupidly, fumbled with the cell phone and brought it to his ear.  Glancing at the clock on the nightstand in the small and rather barren room, he frowned_.  'Two a.m. . . . What . . .?'

" _Faine . . . This is your father," Alexei Demyanov's voice came through the connection.  Alexei was also the only person who actually used his given name.  Everyone else called him the shortened version, Fai.  There was something entirely clinical about his tone, something almost . . . "There's been an accident on the island_ . . ."

" _An . . . accident . . .?  Mother . . .?_ "

 _Alexei grunted in answer.  "I've already booked a flight for you.  It leaves at four a.m. your time, so get to the airport now.  They're expecting you, so they'll rush you through security.  I . . . I cannot fly out until later this morning, so . . . So, do what you can when you get there—and see to your brother._ "

He bit back a sigh as the memory faded—the rushed trip to the airport—the irritation that no one seemed to know what was going on—the anger that every call to his mother ended up, redirected straight to voicemail . . .

The Sri Lankan consulate had been there to greet him when he stepped off the plane, but it wasn't until he'd stepped out of his rental car when he'd reached the place where the family's summer house had once been that he'd understood.

An accident, they'd called it . . .?

' _It . . . It burned to the ground . . ._ '

The fire had burned itself out as dawn had broken over the horizon—over the beautiful sea—and now, hours later, smoke still issued from the decrepit timbers, the stone pillars, the metal supports that stood in silent defiance.  In some places, the flames had been so hot that the metal frame had melted, warped, bending into twisted and macabre shapes . . . They said that it was too soon to tell, just what had happened during the wee hours of the morning when the fire had broken out.  They weren't sure what had sparked the blaze, but it had ripped through the bright and airy structure at lightning-speed, with the devil's determination . . .

They couldn't find Faina Demyanova.  That's what they'd said.  When the firefighters had arrived on the scene, the structure was already completely engulfed in flames.  They'd found two-year-old Yerik, laying in the grass, face down, sobbing as he clung to his stuffed teddy bear, calling out piteously for his mama—a mama that they couldn't find.  A couple of the men had expressed the hope that she might have escaped the flames, that she was scared, maybe, hiding somewhere nearby.  "Maybe," one of the smudged and dirty and tired men had said, managing to garner the wherewithal to offer Fai a grimacing smile.  "I've seen it before . . . The brain can do strange things when faced with such a terrible . . ." Trailing off, his expression lost hold of the hope that he was trying so desperately to offer Fai, leaving behind the absolute truth in his unspoken belief—a belief that enraged Fai despite the blankness of his overall face.  They hoped that Faina had escaped the flames, too, but . . .

He knew better.  He knew his mother better than that.  No matter what, he knew that she never would have left Yerik alone, would she?  For some reason, she had remained inside the house, but she'd managed to get the toddler out.  She hadn't been able to escape the flames, and he knew it: knew it somewhere deep down—a realization that turned his stomach, that ripped and clawed at his very guts, trying to escape.  The fear—he could almost feel it—the overwhelming despair—and she'd known, hadn't she?  She'd . . . She'd known . . . Those last few moments of her life—a life given to gentleness and smiles and love . . . The flash of bright, golden hair, as fine as the silk of her many, many beautiful gowns, of warm hazel eyes—eyes like melted chocolate with flecks of gold and green that always sparkled when she smiled . . . They weren't going to find her because youkai . . .

' _She didn't leave her body behind to be found . . ._ '

And even if he didn't want to believe that—to accept the hurtful knowledge that his own mother was gone—all the proof he needed . . .

Alexei Demyanov stood near the cliff, little more than a wizened form in the distance.  Whether he was staring at the remains of the once-picturesque home or out, over the water, Fai didn't know—couldn't tell.  Alexei had been called away to take care of something in Xi'an, China—a whisper of a potential challenge, or so he had been told.  He'd tried to get a flight back to Sri Lanka yesterday, but hadn't been able to find an available seat any earlier than today.  Even so, would it really have mattered?  Or would Alexei, like Faina, have ended up, nothing more than a victim, as well?

Yet, there was something about his father's stance that he understood—a finality that he could feel despite the distance between them . . . As much as some small part of him wished that he could believe that maybe, that somehow, Faina had managed to escape, he knew . . . He knew because . . . because his father knew it, too . . .

A quiet whimper broke him from his reverie.  Glancing down, he blinked, frowned as the tiny, chubby hand closed around a fistful of his slacks.  Fingers, dirty and smudged with soot, his little arm seeming all the smaller where it stuck out of the oversized adult, safety-orange windbreaker, Yerik heaved a tumultuous sigh, as though he realized, even at his young age, that it was shameful to cry.  Bright green eyes staring up at him, golden hair tousled in the acrid breeze, Yerik gazed at him, his eyes strangely blank, as though he simply didn't quite grasp, just what was happening, and, though the toddler didn't say anything, Fai understood.

Letting out a deep breath, he caught the boy under the arms, picked him up to settle against his hip.  "Mama . . .?" Yerik said, words burbled by the fist he chewed on.  "Mama . . ."

"Yerik, Mama . . ." Trailing off, Fai winced inwardly, gritted his teeth, ground them together so hard that his jaw ached.  "Mama's . . . gone . . ."

Yerik choked on a sob, but he bit it back admirably—horrifyingly.

Arms tightening a little more around the child, he felt the hand of someone in passing—a show of compassion, he supposed.  He didn't acknowledge it.  He didn't think he could, even if he wanted to.  The voices of many had blended together, creating little more than the annoying buzz, not unlike the sound of flies, lingering over a forgotten corpse.

Gaze lighting on the frangipani trees that still stood beside the now ruined edifice, he blinked.  The once-frosted, almost silvery looking bark of the delicate branches were charred on the side closest to the house, leaves withered and curled—singed, scarred . . .  Flowers that should have been a beautiful pink, a pristine white . . . They were half-browned, a strange juxtaposition between pristine blooms and shriveled and ruined blossoms . . . There was a sinister kind of poeticism about it that did not escape his notice, even as he felt the distinct shiver that raced down his spine, leaving behind a sense of cold that went bone-deep . . .

There was no solace to be had, not here.  There was nothing but death and destruction and ugly, ugly truth . . .

Fai Demyanov let his gaze sweep over the mass destruction for a last, long, lingering moment before turning away and striding toward the rental car, ignoring the looks, the voices that called out to him.  The dazed sense of emptiness that had carried him along the greatest portion of the day since that terrible phone call so early in the morning still held him, still buffered him, and yet, he could feel the first inevitable fractures, even as he glanced down at his brother to bolster his faltering sense of purpose.

"It'll be . . . be fine, Yerik," he heard himself say, his voice a little thinner, a little raspier than usual as he blinked his grainy, stinging eyes, as he held the child, who retained the lingering scent of Faina Demyanova, just a little closer.  "We . . . We'll be fine . . ."

He didn't have a car seat for Yerik, but, at the moment, he also didn't much care.  Neither he nor Yerik needed to remain here any longer, and no good would ever come of lingering here, anyway.  Too close to the loss, too devastating, too _real_ . . . No, he figured that the best thing that he could do, both for himself as well as for his young brother, was to get the both of them out of Sri Lanka and back home as soon as he possibly could . . .

 

* * *

 

 

~ _Novosibirsk Oblast_ ~  
~ _Demyanov Estate_ ~

~ _August 30, 2054_ ~

 

 

It was late.  Fai didn't know how late it was, but as he stared up at the low-hanging stars that lingered above the Demyanov estate just outside of Novosibirsk in the oblast of the same name.  No one bothered him out here, not that any of the household servants would dare, and Yerik slept nearby in a net-covered, antique wooden daybed that had been occupied, at one time or another, by every Demyanov child ever born, even though the terrace was screened and had been well fumigated earlier.

Thirty-five days.

It had been thirty-five days since that early morning phone call that had changed everything, had proven yet again that life was not something that could be governed or reasoned, and Fai . . .

Raking a hand through his collar-length, chestnut brown hair, he glanced over at his sleeping brother with a quiet sigh.  He'd gotten into the habit of sleeping in the same room as the boy, who had a tendency to wake up, screaming, shrieking, haunted by demons that Fai couldn't see, but the child could and did, and whatever he saw or remembered terrified him, too . . .

Somehow, he didn't have the heart to leave the toddler alone to wrestle with those things that he so clearly did not understand.  Bad enough, the whimpering cries for a mother who could not comfort him any longer, there were moments when Fai had to leave the pup alone with his nanny—a new woman who had been hired after a few rushed interviews upon their arrival back home.  She was entirely unfamiliar to Yerik, and, as such, he had not adapted well to her presence, especially at moments when he wanted his mother.  Tonight, however, was a milder than normal night, not quite as hot, not nearly as muggy, and the fresh air was a welcome change from the silent castle that they called home, which was why they were out here, on the terrace, instead of in Yerik's room—or Fai's.

The official report that had arrived a few days ago had listed the cause of the fire as electrical in deviation.  One of the solar panels on the roof had been struck by lightning in just the right—or wrong—place, and the electricity had sparked, overloading the batteries that were already fully charged.  Something about a flaw in the design—a reaction that was a fluke, at best, and a tragedy by all other accounts.

The optic filament wires—a relatively new innovation that should have allowed more electric flow inside the house—were super-charged due to the batteries' need to release the overcharge, which had led to the explosion when a light switch was flipped on.  Somehow, they were able to tell that the fire itself had originated near Yerik's nursery.  Apparently the frame damage was worse in that area, the metal more warped and twisted than in other areas of the structure.  The general consensus was that Faina was able to breach the nursery, and she'd been able to drop the toddler out of the window onto a cloth awning that had then rolled Yerik into the springy moss under a cluster of small frangipani trees.  From there, however, there weren't any real answers, as to what had happened to Faina, though, according to best guess statements, the house had gone up in flames fast enough that it was entirely possible that she was either overcome by smoke inhalation or that she had just not had enough time to escape, too.  Official records stated that her body was incinerated in the uninhibited blaze by the time that the firemen had been able to get it under control.

And if there had been any kind of hope, lingering in Fai's heart, even after he'd seen the carnage from the fire, it was all but dead, given the steady, but obvious, decline in their father's health.  Though he said nothing, he didn't have to.  Every day, it seemed, Alexei was a little gaunter in the face, a little shakier in body.  In the course of thirty-five days, the strong, sturdy frame his father normally embodied had withered, wasted away.

Maybe things would be simpler if Alexei spoke at all.  He didn't.  He hadn't, as far as Fai knew—not since the phone call.  Holing himself up in his office for hours and hours on end, from early in the morning until late, late at night—sometimes he didn't come out at all—he didn't take meals, refused to allow any of the household staff into the room, either.  Even the few times Fai had knocked, he'd been summarily ignored, as well.  At times like that, he had to remind himself that it wasn't really that unusual.  Alexei had never really been a very warm person.  As far as Fai knew, the only person Alexei had ever really talked to, opened up to, was Faina.

The sliding glass doors behind him scraped quietly against the frame.  Fai didn't turn to look.  He didn't need to.  He knew the youki—such as it was, and he gritted his teeth at the thinness of it as it brushed over his.  He did sit up straight, however, leaning forward to grasp the thick crystal glass of Faina Crystal Label vodka off the metal and glass table.

"I am leaving," Alexei said without preamble as he drew up beside his son's chair.  His voice was already thin, reedy, more of a wheeze than an actual tone.  Fai winced inwardly.  Outwardly, he remained stoic, impassive.

Fai shot his father a questioning look, slowly standing up, turning to face him.  Alexei's normally bright green eyes were dull, almost faded, eyes sunken so deeply in their sockets that they had taken on a garish sort of glow that was nothing more than pinpoints of light—no sparkle, no _life_ —as he pushed a scraggly strand of dulled chestnut hair out of his face, somehow drawing notice to the diminished cheeks, the too-prominent bones just below the slightly yellowed skin.

"Father?"

Alexei didn't respond right away.  Instead, he slowly lifted a spindly hand, shuffling forward a couple of steps to close the distance between them.  Then he took Fai's hand, palm up, and dropped his signet ring into it.  "This is yours now, Fai.  From this moment forward, you are the Asian tai-youkai.  Serve your people well."

"Father . . . Wait . . ." he blurted, an unreasonable sense of panic that was almost shameful, surging past his carefully controlled façade.  "Father, I . . ."

"I leave it all to you, Faine," he said.  For the briefest of moments, he tried to force a smile.  When it didn't work, he gave up and shook his head.

Staring at the ring in his hand—the thick and solid gold: the Demyanov family seal so delicately carved into the face of it, Fai clenched his jaw so tightly that it ached.  He'd known this moment was inevitable.  Even so . . .

"Will you . . .?" He cleared his throat, his words stopping Alexei when he started to turn away.  "Will you say goodbye to Yerik?"

A thousand emotions flickered over his father's face, but every one of them faded too quickly for Fai to discern.  His eyes shifted to the child, sleeping in the daybed, before returning to lock with Fai's once more, and this time, the expression was inscrutable, though, if Fai were forced to put a name to it, he might have said that Alexei almost looked . . . angry . . .?

"It's better if he doesn't remember me," Alexei murmured.  "Protect him, Faine.  Protect your brother."   If it weren't for his inu-youkai hearing, he might have missed the words entirely.  Then, he turned and walked away, and as much as Fai wanted to stop him—wanted to call him back—wanted to ask him just what he was supposed to do now—he didn't—couldn't . . .

' _Father . . ._ '

' _Remember this moment, Fai . . . Remember the last time you'll ever see him . . ._ '

He grimaced, but his father didn't see it, and for that alone, he was grateful.

Alexei stopped in the doorway, turned his head just enough to gaze back at Fai, who still stood beside the chair with the signet ring in one hand, a glass of vodka in the other, and he . . . He smiled, just a little.  Fai tried to return the sentiment, but the muscles in his face didn't want to cooperate, and, in the end, it probably looked more like a grimace than a smile.

Alexei's parting words drifted back to him, lingered in the air, long after Alexei himself disappeared from sight, long after the feel of his youki faded away to nothing.

"Be strong, my sons," Alexei had said.  " _Live_ strong."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  _Here's the prologue.  Chapter 1 will be posted for Monday!  Feedback would be greatly appreciated!  Happy Thanksgiving_!
> 
>  ** _Vivication:_** _making conscious or alert_.
> 
>  _In Russia, men's names tend to end in -ov while women's names tend to end in -ova.  There are other notations regarding this, but this is the most common variation_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from Fai**_ :  
>  _Mother_ …


	2. 01: Demands

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_1_** ~~  
~ ** _Demands_** ~

 

~ _Demyanov Estate_ ~  
~ _Novosibirsk Oblast_ ~

~ _Monday_ , _April 25, 2070_ ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

' _Calm down . . . I can do this . . ._ '

' _Of course, you can!  Just present your case, and he'll listen.  After all, it's a youkai facility, so, if it closes, then they'll have to find placement for all of those children, and if they do that, then it's much riskier than it should be._ '

Nodding slowly at the very logical sound of her youkai-voice's words, Saori Senkuro refreshed her grip on the steering wheel of the very old cargo van that looked like it had seen much better days as it puttered along the tired, old road.  It was the only vehicle that was available and not on the verge of breaking down, so, she hadn't had much of a choice, even though she hated driving something so large and so far.  Against her better judgment, she'd squeezed what should have been a six day drive into just over three, having only stopped when she absolutely had to rest or eat.  Grimacing as she jerked the steering wheel to the left in an attempt to avoid a really large pothole, she straightened the car back up and drew a deep, steadying breath.

She wasn't entirely sure how it had happened.  She'd only been working at the St. Nicholas II Home for Children on the western outskirts of Bilibino in Chukotka Autonomous Okrug, for a few months as an advocate for a few of the children.  Everything was going well, or so she'd thought, until one of the other advocates—a very sweet northern-fur-seal-youkai named Dmitri Yegsteric—inadvertently ratted her out to the powers-that-be.  Of course, to be fair, she had to allow that Dmitri hadn't realized that no one else knew of her actual family background.  It wasn't that she was trying to hide anything.  It really just hadn't come up.

Yes, she was related to the Inu no Taisho—he was the man that she called, 'ojii-chan'.  Her parents were Aiko Inutaisho-Senkuro and her mate, Seiji, and Aiko was Sesshoumaru and Kagura's daughter, which made InuYasha and Kagome her great-uncle and great-aunt, respectively.  The thing was, while her brother, Rinji shared the legendary coloring of the Inu no Taisho and his family, Saori didn't.  She took after Seiji in coloring, at least, though her father liked to say often enough that she had her mother's face.  Saori had always taken that with a grain of salt, though.  In her estimation, everything about her mother screamed refinement, classic beauty, and Saori?  Well, her father was a handsome man, and if she were a man, she figured it might have carried over in that, but all she really saw when she looked in the mirror was her father, which, in her estimation, wasn't nearly as flattering in a woman than it was in a man . .

Even so, when Dmitri had tossed her heritage out there during a staff meeting since they were all kind of discussing where they'd come from while chatting before the meeting had actually started, Saori had realized quickly enough that many of her fellow employees did think it was a huge deal, even if she hadn't . . . Given that she didn't share the Inutaisho last name, it wasn't really any kind of subterfuge, even though Mikhail Bostoyev, the director of the orphanage, seemed to think it was.

So, because of her familial ties, when word came down that the home was set to be de-funded in the next quarter, Director Bostoyev had turned to look at her, gaze narrowing in an entirely calculating sort of way, and he'd suggested—which really meant that he'd stated quite plainly—that she would be coming out here today to talk the tai-youkai into rethinking his support of the orphanage.  He'd also mentioned in a rather off-the-cuff sort of way that, should she fail to change his mind, that she was fired, but the thing about that was, she really wasn't entirely certain if he was joking or not . . .

' _Don't be stupid!_ ' she scolded herself, refreshing her grip on the steering wheel.  ' _Of course, he was joking!  I mean, that'd be a pretty terrible reason to fire someone . . ._ '

' _Well . . . That's true.  Then again, the director isn't really the kind of person who makes jokes—ever,_ ' her youkai-voice pointed out.  ' _I'd guess that he could easily figure out grounds on which to fire you . . ._ '

Scowling at that thought, she bit her lip, catching the length of her stormy gray hair—dark enough that it looked black in dimmer light.  Gunmetal, her mother had so often called it: gray so deep, so rich, that it took on hints of blue in the light.  ' _So . . . You think he meant it?  That either I figure out a way to convince the tai-youkai or . . .?_ '

Her youkai-voice sighed.  ' _I'm not saying he was serious, but . . . But he_ could _have been . . ._ '

She sighed, too, propping her elbow on the chipped and faded window sill, leaning her temple against her balled-up fist, pale blue eyes shining gray in the weak and wan light of the early morning sky.  It was something else that people often got wrong about her.  Most everyone would have said that her eyes were a light, pale gray, and that wasn't true.  She supposed it had something to do with the combination of her hair and milky skin, but her eyes were blue—the lightest blue.  They just tended to look like more of a silver—maybe closer to pewter—than blue more often than not . . .

' _Maybe if you show him the things you brought along, maybe it'd be enough to change his mind,_ ' her youkai pointed out in an overly reasonable tone— a tone that she knew to mean that her youkai-voice wasn't any more convinced that she'd be successful than she was.  ' _If you personalize the orphanage in his mind, then it'd be more difficult to deny them, don't you think?_ '

' _Personalize it . . ._ '

' _Yes . . . You know, put faces on these orphans instead of leaving them as a sort of abstract kind of thought for him . . ._ '

She nodded slowly, straightening her back, refreshing her grip on the steering wheel once more.  To be honest, she wasn't entirely sure just what kind of man this tai-youkai was.  To her knowledge, no one had really spoken about him much before—not entirely surprising.  Maybe more political talk swirled around in her uncle, Toga's home or in her grandfather's, but in hers?  Well, it rarely came up, actually.  She thought that maybe she'd heard before that the Asian tai-youkai was younger, but that was a relative term, too, considering many in her family were quite a bit older, so if they were talking about young in terms of youkai, then it could mean anything from young adult to someone in their early hundreds or more.  Other than that?  She knew nothing . . .

' _You could always call someone and ask what they know . . ._ '

She considered that, then made a face as the looming and almost imposing edifice appeared on the near horizon: the Demyanov palace . . .

Standing taller than the range of trees, towering over the fields of wildflowers that were just now settling in for spring, the gray stone spires rose high and proud, and Saori pressed her lips together in a grim sort of determination at the almost foreboding sense that she felt from the cold and formidable structure.  Just what kind of man lived in such a place? she had to wonder.

She frowned.  Even Sesshoumaru's mansion on the outskirts of Tokyo wasn't as imposing as that place.  The couple of brass onion domes did little to detract from the strict exterior and, in fact, added a strange kind of opulence—an even more foreboding sense of unbroken order . . .

To her surprise, the guardhouse near the opened gates was empty as she drove through.  There were a couple small mounted cameras up high on the thick stone pillars that lined the gates, but she had no idea if they were working or not.  Thick trees lined the wide driveway for the first half mile or so, before giving way to a gently rolling lawn—already well manicured despite the earliness of the season—dotted with large flower gardens and gray stone paths, water fountains, stone walls . . .

It was beautiful, she had to admit, even if all of it only added to the overall feeling of rigidity, of absolute regulation, of an almost militaristic kind of formality.  Something about it sent a shiver right down her spine: the cold splendor, the unrelenting sense of place and almost horrifying perfection, the pervasive feel that nothing would ever dare to be out of place, out of order . . .

Stopping the van on the far side of the huge and hulking water fountain in the center of cobblestone driveway, Saori killed the engine and drew a deep breath to gather her bravado—something that she'd lost some of when faced with the imposing castle—before yanking on the door handle and nearly stumbling out of the van that looked so entirely out of place against the splendor of the estate.

Slamming the door closed—it wouldn't hold if she didn't—she made a face as she leaned to the side, checking herself in the side mirror that was held on by a couple of industrial bolts that, she knew, were long enough to extend through the door where they were securely bolted into place.

Her hair could use a good brushing, she realized with a grimace since she'd have to dig through her suitcase to find the brush, but it had been unseasonably warm yesterday afternoon, so she'd had no choice but to lower the windows in the van since the air conditioner had stopped working years ago—they'd said—and she'd only pulled over beside the road to catch a couple hours' sleep instead of seeking out an actual hotel anywhere along the way.

Her faded pink sweatshirt was rumpled, her jeans wrinkled and a little yellowed by rusty water and age.  Her tennis shoes were scuffed and smudged—hardly the vision of someone set to meet with someone as important as the Asian tai-youkai, and she sighed.  The director would have been better off to have asked someone else to go on this little mission—someone with better planning skills or at least with the common sense to think beforehand that they ought to stop and make themselves presentable before rushing, headlong into the fray, as it were . . .

She winced as she dragged her fingers through her hair in an attempt to straighten it.  It didn't really do much, other than catching on tangles and pulling a little too hard here and there.  In fact, she was so intent on what she was doing, that the sound of blatant throat clearing behind her wrenched a strangled little gasp-squeak from her as she whipped around, barely able to catch herself on the door handle before she ended up, face down in the driveway.  "Oh!"

The man that stood before her blinked slowly, arms crossed over his chest as the late April breeze—brisk but not cold—gently lifted the strands of his chestnut-colored hair—hair that barely brushed the collar of his nondescript, light blue shirt, in an unruly kind of chaos.  The ends curled slightly, sticking out here and there in a bit of disarray that still seemed entirely orderly on him.  Ridiculously handsome, actually, and . . . _'He's . . . He's so young . . ._ ' she thought as his bright hazel eyes regarded her in an almost lazy kind of way as he shifted the strong line of his jaw to the side as though he were assessing her—and finding her somewhat lacking.  He wasn't as young as she was, no, but he certainly was nowhere near old enough to be tai-youkai, was he, and he neither smiled nor frowned as he waited patiently, as though he were simply pausing long enough for her to tell him just who she was and what she wanted.

"H-Hello," she said, bowing slightly in traditional Japanese style of greeting without really thinking about it.  "I'm Saori, and . . . and I'm here to talk to the tai-youkai."

A slight brightening in his eyes was the only real indication that he'd heard her at all, but he finally offered her one curt nod.  "Is that right?  And just what is it that you want to speak to him about?"

Biting her lip at his perceived rudeness, she scrunched up her shoulders and let them drop as she pasted on a tepid little smile.  "It's . . . It's important," she said, wondering who the man was, wondering just how much she ought to tell him.  Was he an assistant or something?  She didn't know, but the way he was staring at her was starting to make her feel more and more self-conscious by the second.  It reminded her of the look that the family's housekeeper used to get on her face when she'd come in from school and set her books onto one of the tables that she'd just cleaned off for the hundredth time in a week.

"Everyone says their business is important," he replied, flicking his wrist in a rather abrupt kind of dismissal.  "If you want to dance around with it, then I have more pressing matters to attend."

"Wait!" she called after him when he started to turn on his heel.  "Are you—?  Do you work for him?  The tai-youkai?"

Her question seemed to surprise him, and he slowly pivoted to face her again, brow furrowing as he carefully regarded her yet again.  "I guess you could say that," he finally said.  "You realize that usually, one calls to request a formal appointment with the tai-youkai."

She grimaced.  Of course, she knew that.  She simply hadn't thought about it, was all . . . "Well, then, I'd . . . I'd like to request one," she said, straightening her back, trying not to let the man see just how uncomfortable she was at the moment.  "Please."

He considered her statement for a long moment, and then, he sighed, letting his arms drop to his sides as he held up a hand, curled his fingers a few times, as though to hurry her along.  "You've got my attention," he muttered in an almost resigned sort of tone.  "Let me hear it."

She blinked, and the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them:  "You're the—?  You can't be the tai-youkai!  You're too young!"

He seemed to bristle under her shocked assessment, and he drew his back up proudly as he leveled a very condescending look at her.  "Do you want to speak to me or not?" he demanded, albeit a little dryly.

She flinched, hoping against hope that she wasn't blushing as badly as she thought she probably was.  "Oh, uh, yes!  Yes, please," she added for good measure.  Hurrying past him to the back of the van, she opened the hatch and scrambled for the box of things that had been thrust into her arms when she'd tossed her suitcase into the back of the vehicle.  "I've been sent by the St. Nicholas II Home for Children—I'm a child advocate there, and—"

"St. Nicholas . . . St. Nicholas . . . The orphanage in Bilibino, right?  I defunded that," he interrupted.

She grimaced.  "Yes, you did," she agreed.  "If you would—"

He shook his head.  "I'm not interested in hearing your pitch," he told her in a no-nonsense tone.  "That place isn't worth saving.  The children can be assimilated into other area homes, and—"

"But this is the only one that services all youkai and hanyou children!" she insisted, her sense of desperation making her grasp his arm before he could move away.  "Please, if you'll just humor me for a few moments, I swear, I'll—"

Sparing a moment to stare rather pointedly at her hand, still clutching the sleeve of his shirt, he snorted indelicately.  "I've already humored you for a few moments, Miss . . .?"

"Senkuro," she supplied, forcing herself to let go of him.  "Just, please, I—"

"Miss Senkuro—"

"This!" she exclaimed, grabbing a threadbare teddy bear out of the box and jamming it up under his nose.  He jerked back with a scowl as she held it up high.  "This belongs to one of our kids, and he loves it!  He doesn't care that it's so ragged.  He sees past that to the love that he feels instead!  It's the same with all of our children!  This!" she hurried on to say, flipping open a ratty old drawing tablet to show him one of the images inside, "Another of the children draws pictures of his old home, of his family—they died in an altercation between a couple gangs in Chirinda . . . So many of these children really need the individual attention that they get at the home—the counseling so that they can overcome their pasts, and . . . These little ones have already had so much instability in their short lives that the home is the only real sense of belonging that some of them have ever, ever felt, and—"

"And they'll adjust fine to new homes," he insisted.  "Children are resilient that way."

"What if they can't?" she insisted stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest.  "These children—they're all youkai and hanyou.  If you move them, they'll be alone—they'll lose that sense of being with others like them.  Most of the other orphanages are full of children of human descent, and that might be important that they develop the understanding of humans in general, but it's far more important that they're able to adjust first—able to understand and acknowledge their own heritages.  Splitting these children up?  Placing them with children where they may well be the only one of their kind?  This home was set up to work especially with youkai children, and for a youkai or hanyou child who isn't immediately recognized for what they are?  They'll be ostracized at best—treated like some kind of freak or monster at worst . . . Do you know what it's like, to grow up in that kind of environment?"

"Do _you?_ " he countered rather mildly, eyes taking on a rather bored kind of slant, as though she were talking gibberish.

"I do," she said quietly.  "I mean, not personally, but . . . But I have a relative who grew up in just that way, and it . . . It had a profound effect on him throughout his lifetime."

"So, you really don't," he replied.

She winced inwardly.  "It took years for him to find the acceptance and the understanding that these children are learning now," she stated once more.  "These children need the kind of support they receive.  You . . . You owe it to them . . ."

"I owe them?" he echoed rather harshly.  "And just what, exactly, do I owe them?"

The fierceness in his eyes made her want to step back, made her want to retreat, and, for the first time since she'd met him, she could see the determination of the tai-youkai shining through.  Even so, she forced herself to stand her ground, not to back down—not now—not with the lives of the children on the line, so to speak.  "You're their tai-youkai," she replied quietly, her tone no less determined.  "If you won't stand for them, then who ever will?"

The Asian tai-youkai heaved a sigh, slowly shaking his head as he shifted his gaze over and past her, down along the winding driveway that led back to the road.  "Okay," he said.

She blinked, shook her head as confusion set in.  "Okay?" she echoed.

He nodded.  "Okay."

"What does that mean?"

He shrugged.  "It means that you can have the funding to keep the home open.  But."

The immediate sense of exultation abruptly disappeared.  "But . . .?"

He didn't turn to face her as his eyes slipped back to meet hers once more.  "But you have to tell me just whose funding you're going to take away then, because to keep the orphanage open, something else has to give up their money.  Should it be the homeless shelter that services two thousand youkai a day, every day?  Keeps them fed and healthy and warm in the winters—winters that are brutal here?  Perhaps it should be taken from the youkai clinic?  Maybe you'd rather—"

"I get your point," she grumbled, cutting him off before he could go on.  "Surely there's something you can do, though . . ."

"The orphanage isn't something that I wanted to cut off," he explained, though he sounded more irritated than patient.  "However, it does the least damage.  Like it or not, these children can be taken in by other agencies, and, in doing so, it frees up their portion of the budget, so unless you'd rather defund one of the others, then there's just nothing I can do about it."

"What about fundraisers?" she blurted before she could stop herself.

Rubbing his face in an entirely exasperated kind of way, he shot her a disbelieving glower.  "And just what kind of fundraiser are you talking about?  Going door to door to sell cookies?  Candy?  Magazine subscriptions?  And just how many of those do you think that those children could sell in order to make a dent in the funds that are needed to keep that facility open?"

"There . . . There has to be some way," she murmured, hating how weak, how pathetic, her response sounded in her own ears.

To her surprise, however, he sighed.  "In a perfect world," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

"Pardon?"

He shook his head, waved a hand, as though to dismiss his own thoughts.  "I'm sorry, Miss Senkuro," he told her, and, to his credit, he actually did sound like he meant it.  "You're not from here, are you?"

She opened her mouth, but snapped it closed.  "I'm not," she admitted.  "I'm . . . I'm from Japan."

His expression didn't change as he gazed at her, but he did nod slowly, as though something in her statement made perfect sense to him.  "Japan is a world apart from here," he told her.  "We don't have the funds to take care of everything we'd like—not here.  Here, there is more need and far less money, and painful choices have to be made.  Your orphanage is not the only one to suffer for the imbalances."

And just what could she say to that?  She sighed.  "If you could just meet these children . . ."

He slowly shook his head.  "It wouldn't change anything," he told her.  "Now, if you're finished, I have a meeting that I need to get to, and—"

"Would you . . .? Would just please just think about it a little longer?" she asked, fiddling with the teddy bear still in her hand as she held up the hatch that sometimes fell closed by itself with the other.  "Just . . . Maybe there's some way . . .?"

He looked like he wanted to tell her to forget it.  He sighed and gave one curt nod, instead.  "I'll think about it," he told her.  "I don't see the decision being reversed, though."

She had a feeling that it was the best she was going to get, and she nodded, too, hating the feeling that she really hadn't accomplished anything at all, yet understanding his situation a little too well, too.  "Thank you for your time."

He really didn't seem happy at all with the discussion, and for a moment, he almost seemed like he might want to say something else.  In the end, though, he nodded and started to step back.

It simply wasn't fair, was it?  These children . . . None of them had asked to be brought into a situation like this, and yet, all of them seemed to understand that they'd found a place to belong.  Some of them were starting to make real strides forward, and now, it was all going to be taken away from them.  Blinking fast as her gaze blurred over, she bit down hard on her cheek, trying to stave the tears back.  He already felt bad, didn't he?  Bad for having to make that kind of decision, in the first place, and the last thing—the very last thing—he needed or deserved was the guilt of making her cry on top of everything else . . .

And yet, the harder she tried to staunch the rising tears, the thicker they rose.  To her horror, she choked out a rough little breath, smashing her hands over her face in a last-ditch effort to keep them in check.

She heard his muttered curse as he swiftly bent to retrieve the teddy bear she'd dropped.  A moment later, however, something hit her leg as the echo of the hatch falling closed echoed in her ears, and she blinked rapidly, dashing a hand over her eyes as her gaze widened in shock, as she stared at the unconscious body of the Asia tai-youkai, laying at her feet.

"Oh . . . Oh, kami," she hissed, fingers flying up to hover over her lips as she felt the blood drain out of her face.  "Oh . . . Oh, that's not good . . ."

' _Kami!  Did you just kill him?_ '

She squeaked, her gaze feverishly sweeping the grounds as she tried to figure out just what had happened and just what she ought to do.  As luck would have it, though, there wasn't another soul in sight, and she grimaced.  ' _He . . . He can't be dead, right?  I mean, if he were dead, his body . . ._ '

' _Not necessarily.  I mean, you weren't fighting him, so . . . Anyway, forget about that!  Is he breathing?_ '

Making a face, she quickly knelt down, her fingers shaking as she gingerly touched his throat.  He had a pulse, and that was good enough, wasn't it?  Satisfied that he was still alive—at least, for the moment—she stood up, started to step over his prone body.

' _W . . . Wait . . ._ '

' _What do you think will happen if you go up there and ring the bell?  You knocked out their tai-youkai!_ '

' _Not on purpose, I didn't!  I'm sure that if I explain what happened—_ '

' _This is Russia, Saori!  The laws here are nothing at all like the laws back home, and if you think about it, whether you meant to or not, what happened could easily be construed as assault on the tai-youkai, don't you think?_ '

' _But I didn't—_ '

' _No, just . . . Just think about it . . . And besides, you . . . you wanted him to see the children, didn't you?  So . . ._ '

Eyes flaring wide as her youkai-voice's words started to come clear in her mind, she bit her lip.  ' _But . . ._ '

' _Come on, Saori . . . He can see the orphanage for himself, and you can make sure he's all right, too.  If you go marching up to that castle, they're going to arrest you first and ask questions later, don't you think?_ '

Staring at the foreboding structure, she winced . . . A castle as old as this one probably did have a network of dungeons below ground—at least, that's what she figured, given her limited knowledge of such places.  Even so, she was the one who had taken her hand off the hatch despite knowing that it had a tendency to close on its own, so, she supposed, in a roundabout way, it really was her fault that he'd been knocked out cold.  She'd just orchestrated an attack on the tai-youkai, hadn't she?  Intentionally or not, that was very serious business . . .

She covered her face with her hands for a long moment, whimpering quietly as she tried to figure out, exactly what to do . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_NOTE_** _:  For the rest of this year, I'm only going to be updating Monday through Thursday (4 chapters a week) for a few reasons.  Most importantly, I'm watching a friend's child for her, but also, I am trying to work on something special for Christmas, too, so I'm giving myself a little more time to work on that, as well!  After New Year's, I'll get back to updating five days a week, so thanks for understanding, and I hope you enjoy this venture into my brain again_! 
> 
>  ** _Vivication:_** _making conscious or alert_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
>  _** xSerenityx020 ——— Silent Reader ——— Quinn ——— lilswtheart9811 ——— DiamondRo5e
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
>  _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— Athena_Evarinya ——— WhisperingWolf ——— ShiroNeko316
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
>  _** monsterkittie ——— lianned88 ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from Saori**_ :  
>  _They're going to throw me in prison for this_!


	3. 02: Impetuous

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_2_** ~~  
~ ** _Impetuous_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

"Senkuro."

Gripping the cell phone so tightly in her hands that it groaned a little under the stress until she forced herself to loosen her fingers just a little, Saori heaved a sigh of relief  at the welcome sound of her brother's voice.  "Nii-chan?  Thank kami . . . Nii-chan, I need your help . . ."

"Saori?  Why do you sound like you're in a complete panic?"

"Well, I kind of am," she admitted with a grimace as she lifted her chin far enough to peer into the rear view mirror at the back of the van—not that she could actually see anything, given that it was pitch black outside, so the shadows inside were even darker and thicker than she could credit.  "I . . . I _might_ have done something . . ."

There was a very long, very pregnant pause on Rinji's side of the connection.  Then he sighed.  "How bad of a something _might_ you have done this time?" he asked rather dryly.

She winced.  " _We-e-e-e-ell_ . . ."

She heard the squeak of his office chair.  "Is it as bad as the time you decided that you needed to take off to follow that stupid j-pop band to Hokkaido without telling kaa-san or tou-san?"

Making a face since she still remembered just how irritated her father was over that stunt, she shifted her lips to the side as she thought it over.  "Umm . . ."

Rinji grunted.  "Out with it, Saori."

She sighed.  "If someone kidnapped Toga-oji-chan, how bad would that be?"

He grunted.  "It'd probably fall somewhere between 'wish-you-were-dead' and 'instant-obliteration' . . . Why?"

Flinching at the possibilities that Rinji had presented, Saori bit her lip.  "Oh, that's . . . that's bad . . ."

"Why?  Is someone trying to kidnap oji-san?"

She heard the hint of teasing in his tone, but it did little to offer her any kind of comfort, actually.  "No," she allowed.

"Okay," he said, "then what's up?"

"I . . . I . . . I _might_ have . . . kidnapped . . . the Asian tai-youkai . . ."

Dead silence for a long, long minute.  Then Rinji barked out an incredulous laugh.  "Sorry, I thought you said you _might_ have kidnapped the Asian tai-youkai."

She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment.  "I did—well, I mean, I might have . . ."

"You . . . You _did_ do it or you _thought_ about doing it?"

"Umm . . . He's . . . He's kind of in . . . the back of the van . . ."

"You . . . He's . . . _what?_ "

"It was an accident!" she blurted.

Rinji sighed.  "Saori, you can't _accidentally_ kidnap someone . . . You _kidnapped_ Demyanov-sama?"

"The hatch fell because it won't stay up by itself, and it must have hit him on the head, but there wasn't anyone else around, and, given that he was unconscious, I was afraid they'd think . . ." She winced.  "I panicked!"

Another sigh—this one, very long and drawn out.  "The hatch?  What the hell do you mean, the hatch?"

"The van door!" she hissed.  "Sometimes I wonder about your supposed-brilliance, nii-chan . . ."

He grunted.  "So, you . . . _accidentally_ . . . knocked out Fai-sama, and then you, what?  Stuffed him in the van because you were too afraid to go ring his doorbell?"

She let out a deep breath.  "Wow, you really _do_ understand!  His name is Fai?"

"For the love of—No, I don't understand, Saori," he snapped.  "Can you focus, please?  Go knock on the door and explain everything, and it'll be fine, but get the poor man out of the back of your van!"

"I can't."

"Why can't you?"

"Because we're about twelve hours from his castle."

"Hell's seven hounds—are you serious?"

"I _did_ tell you I kidnapped him, didn't I?"

"And he's still not awake?"

"N . . . No . . ."

". . . Did you kill him?  Because if you did—"

"I didn't!" she swore.  "Anyway, I can't take him home—not until he meets the orphans, and—"

"Then why did you call me?"

"Well, it's just . . ." She winced.  "Do you think I should tie him up?"

Rinji sighed again.  "No, I really don't think that'd be a good idea, Saori.  In fact, stay where you are.  I'm going to call ojii-sama.  Maybe he can talk Fai-sama into not locking you up for the rest of your life . . ."

Saori gasped.  "Oh, no, don't call him!  Nii-chan!"

"Why not?"

"He'll tell me to take him home!"

" _I_ told you to take him home!"

"But I don't _want_ to take him home!"

"Saori—"

"Did you know?  He's . . . He's really good-looking, too . . . Do you think he's single?"

Rinji grunted indelicately.  "Even if he is, he's not going to want anything to do with a crazy nutjob that kidnapped him, don't you think?"

She made a face.  "Well, he might be able to look past all that."

"Somehow, I really doubt that, Saori . . ."

She snorted, too.  "You don't know that, nii-chan.  He could be a very forgiving sort."

"They will throw you in jail for this," Rinji pointed out—unnecessarily, in Saori's opinion.

"Yeah, well, okay, but if he doesn't see the orphans— _meet_ them—he won't change his mind about defunding the home."

Rinji's sigh this time was different from the other ones.  This one was long, drawn out, almost defeated.  "So, there _is_ a method to your madness."

Heaving an almost defeated kind of breath, Saori focused on the road ahead of her.  "He wants to send them all to live in other homes with humans, and if they're put in homes like that, then who's going to teach them all they need to know about being youkai or hanyou?"

"This is a horrible idea, you realize," Rinji pointed out.

"It's the only chance I've got.  These pups . . . They deserve to have a home—a _stable_ home—a _real_ home . . . People don't want to adopt them because they're not babies.  They hear 'abandoned children', or 'orphans', and they immediately think there's something wrong with them, and there isn't.  Sometimes, it's just pure, plain, dumb bad luck . . . They've already lost more than their fair share, you know?" she said.  "If I can change his mind, then being thrown in jail will be worth it."

 

* * *

 

 

" _If I can change his mind, then being thrown in jail will be worth it_."

Blinking into the darkness from his spot on the floor in the back of the rickety old van, Fai winced as the vehicle hit a bump in the road, as his already sore head bounced off the cold metal floor with a heavy thud.

' _Which wouldn't even be an issue if you'd just pushed her aside and escaped when she'd checked on you after that phone call to . . . whoever she'd called . . ._ ' his youkai-voice pointed out.  ' _But no, you go and pretend that you're still knocked out?  What was your logic in that, anyway?_ '

He frowned.  To be completely honest, he really didn't know.

' _Or you do, and you just don't want to admit it._ '

Reaching up, gingerly touching his temple where the van door had fallen and hit him, he winced.  He could feel dried blood, but he felt fine, he supposed, other than the slight throbbing that still lingered.

By rights, he ought to be furious, shouldn't he?  This unknown girl had tossed him into the back of her van and took off with him—basically, she'd kidnapped him—and common sense told him that he really ought to be madder than hell.

So, why wasn't he?

' _Because . . . Because you didn't want to defund that orphanage, any more than she wants you to do it, and you know why . . ._ '

He sighed.  He supposed there was some truth to that.  After all . . .

" _Alexei, the children need a place to go—a place that understands their specific needs.  It's worth it!  If you weren't tai-youkai—if something happened to us before Fai was old enough to take care of himself—I'd want him to be in a place that could help him to understand what he is.  Wouldn't you?_ "

" _It's not that simple, you know.  There's only so much in the budget, and every year, there are more things that need to be addressed.  Just where are we going to come up with the money for this, Faina?  Answer me that, and I'll gladly see it done._ "

 _Faina considered that for several long moments.  Then she laughed, the sound of it like tiny silver bells.  "Give me a few days, and I'll figure it out!" she promised.  "I'll find a way that won't take anything away from the other allocations_ . . ."

' _Mother,_ ' Fai thought as the memory of that conversation faded away.  His father had funded that home because Faina had asked him to.  Stepping away from it was not something that Fai had ever wanted, but when there had been two large forest fires that had destroyed so much in the last couple years alone, along with some other natural disasters that had pushed against the already thin bottom line, there simply wasn't the cushion that had existed before, and that was the problem.  Last year had been bad enough.  He'd almost exhausted his own personal accounts because the money that stood in the family account simply wasn't quite enough, just to meet the demands, and this year?  Well, he couldn't do it again, not without delving into Yerik's trust fund, and he simply could not— _would_ not—do that . . .

' _You want her to take you there, don't you?_ ' his youkai said.  ' _You want to see what it was that your mother loved about the place . . . You . . . You want her to convince you . . ._ '

' _Don't be stupid.  I don't have the time to go on some weird road trip with a girl that I don't even know.  She kidnapped me, remember?  That's against the law, last I checked, and Yerik . . . Yerik is going to freak out when he figures it out . . ._ '

' _Then why aren't we stopping her?  Why haven't you told her that you're awake?_ '

That was the question, wasn't it?  He wasn't entirely sure what was stopping him, what it was about her that made him hesitate.

His youkai-voice heaved a sigh.  ' _You missed your meetings today.  You've got a bunch of them tomorrow, too, not even to mention the rest of the week.  Just how long do you think it'll take for people to realize that you're missing?  And Yerik—_ '

' _Yerik's at school, where he's going to stay, no matter what kind of crap he decides to spout._ '

' _You know, maybe you ought to consider what he said instead of just summarily dismissing it.  If you try to 'tai-youkai' him, you're going to chase him away._ '

Fai sighed at the reminder . . .

 _The ticking of the clock, the dead silence in the room as Fai struggled to keep a tight rein on his rising temper_ . . .

" _I've given it a lot of thought, you know.  I'm not just pulling all of this out of my ass, Fai._ "

 _Glaring across the room at his younger brother, he deliberately said nothing as he emptied the glass of vodka in his hand.  "You're not?  Because you could have fooled me.  That's nothing but idiocy, Yerik.  It's too dangerous, and you're_ —"

" _I'm not stupid.  You do your job because you want to protect youkai.  That's what I want to do, too.  You're tai-youkai.  You need to focus on your responsibilities.  You shouldn't have to be the one, running off to hunt down this person or that one.  That shouldn't be your job.  No other tai-youkai_ —"

" _Father did the same," Fai reminded Yerik coldly.  "This is not another jurisdiction.  This is_ my _responsibility.  If I refuse to fight, then I don't deserve the office_."

" _It's not about what you deserve, Fai," Yerik replied, shaking his head slowly, almost sadly.  "It's about . . . It's because of what they say, isn't it?  Because they say you're not old enough to be tai-youkai_ . . ."

" _Yerik_ —"

 _Standing abruptly, Yerik strode past Fai to grab a cup and dump vodka in it before tipping the bottle into Fai's empty glass, too.  "No, it is.  You think I haven't seen it, but I have.  You tried to shield me from all of it, and I . . . but you can't—_ couldn't _.  You take it all on yourself because you don't want to give them any more ground."  Sipping the drink, he leveled a no-nonsense look on his older brother.  "You're tougher than anyone I know," Yerik went on quietly.  "You don't have to prove anything to anyone, and I . . . I want to help you.  I owe you that_."

" _You owe me nothing," Fai growled.  "All I want for you—all I've_ ever _wanted for you—is for you to go to school, to become something—whatever  you want to be_."

 _Yerik nodded, but he didn't look away from him, either: didn't back down, didn't give any ground.  "I want to be a hunter.  That's what I want_."

' _Can you really tell him that he cannot be a hunter if that's what he wants to be?_ ' his youkai-voice asked, breaking into the memory, even as it slowly faded.

Fai scowled into the darkness, wincing again as the van hit yet another pothole in the road.  ' _Yerik's far too sensitive to be a hunter.  He writes poems and keeps a journal.  He's not meant to be a hunter, no matter what he thinks._ '

' _But it's really not your place to dictate what he can or cannot do, either.  You're his brother, yes, but you're not his father, and even then, do you  honestly think that your father would—?_ '

' _Father would never have allowed it, either._ '

' _You really don't know that._ '

' _I know enough._ '

His youkai sighed, but said no more, and for that, Fai was grateful.

 

* * *

 

 

Saori pulled over with a sigh, figuring that they were deep enough in the middle of nowhere that it would be safe to camp for the night as she shoved the door open and stumbled out of the van with a groan since her muscles were entirely tense and sore from having spent the majority of the day behind the steering wheel.  She'd thought about stopping at an old motel she'd seen, but, given that she really wasn't sure just how mad Fai-sama was going to be, she figured it'd be an all-around bad idea.

' _Well, sure, he'll probably be a little out of sorts,_ ' her youkai agreed rather thoughtfully as she made quick work of gathering kindling for a fire.  ' _But once you explain what happened, he might not be as angry . . ._ '

She frowned.  Somehow, she kind of doubted that any explanation was going to make things all right, as far as that went . . .

"I will give you five minutes to explain to me exactly why I shouldn't have you arrested right now for kidnapping."

Saori gasped and whipped around, very nearly whacking him with the armload of kindling wood she'd managed to gather.  "I . . . I didn't hear you get out of the van," she blurted when he leaned back to avoid the branches.

He grunted and yanked the wood away from her.  "Probably because you were too busy, whistling under your breath—entirely off key, might I add."

"I'm really sorry," she added quickly.  "It's just . . . I . . . I panicked . . ."

"You . . . panicked," he echoed rather dubiously, kicking the decaying leaves, the sparse grass, away in a good sized circle.  "Should I ask what happens when you don't . . . panic?"

Biting her lip as she tucked her hair behind her ear, she sighed.  "Well, I . . . I normally don't kidnap people," she quipped, breaking into a small smile.

Her answer did nothing to amuse him, and she sighed, dropping the feigned coquettishness as she ducked her chin.  "I was afraid that I'd be thrown into jail for assaulting you with the . . . the hatch," she hurried on to say.  "I didn't think that they'd listen when I tried to explain, and it wasn't on purpose—I mean, sort of.  I-I-I mean, it _was_ an accident, but I knew that the hatch tends to fall if you don't hold onto it.  I was just so upset that it slipped my mind, and-and then, it slipped my hand, and—"

He held up a hand and slowly shook his head.  "You're making my headache worse with all your babbling," he growled, dropping the kindling into the cleared circle.  "I don't suppose you have any matches?"

Digging into her pocket, she produced a simple disposable lighter and handed it over.  "I . . . I did grab some food when I stopped to fill the van," she ventured, careful to keep her voice lowered since she had a feeling that she was already treading on very thin ice, as it were.  "It's probably not very good, but . . ."

He said nothing as he lit the fire, concentrating on his task, which she took as begrudging agreement, and she stifled another sigh as she hurried around the van to retrieve the plastic bags.  She'd managed to grab an assortment of pirozhki along with some other snacks and a few bottles of kvass, and when she returned to the fire, she grimaced when she spotted him, sitting on the ground and rubbing lightly at his temple.

"Let me look at that," she said, handing him the bags that he took and set aside.

"I think you've done quite enough for one day, don't you?" he muttered.

"I just want to make sure that you're all right," she replied.

"I'll live," he retorted dryly.  "You can take me home tomorrow, and I'll consider not having you arrested."

Wringing her hands as she sank down next to him, she sighed.  "I . . . I want you to come with me," she forced herself to say.  "I just want you to meet the children."

To her surprise, he sighed, too.  "I'm not heartless," he informed her, his tone indicating that he believed she thought as much.  "I know very well that these children have suffered losses and heartache that most adults don't begin to comprehend.  It's not my job to make judgments based on personal feelings.  I'm not afforded that luxury."

' _You know, you're going about this in the wrong way,_ ' her youkai pointed out.  ' _Think about it.  He's young, right—at least, young for a tai-youkai.  He's been tai-youkai for a little while, too, so . . . So he knows better than most, don't you think?  After all, he lost his parents, too, or he wouldn't be tai-youkai now . . ._ '

Pondering those words, she stared into the dancing flames that did little to dispel the chilly night air.  She hadn't thought of that, no, but maybe she should have.  Maybe if she appealed to that part of him—the part that had experienced the same kind of loss . . .

Blinking when he shoved a bottle of strawberry kvoss under her nose, she took it, absently noticing that he'd removed the cap for her, too.  "Thank you."

He grunted, but didn't really reply.

"How old were you when you became tai-youkai?" she ventured at length.

He narrowed his gaze on her momentarily before shifting his eyes back to the fire.  "I was twenty," he said.  "Does it matter?"

"Twenty?  But . . . How old are you now?"

He sighed.  "Thirty-six," he replied.  "Almost."

"Oh . . . I'm twenty-one," she told him.  Then she giggled.  "Well, almost."

"I didn't ask," he stated.

For some reason, his entirely dry statement only made her laugh.  "If you're trying to be rude, it's not working very well."

"Do you ever shut up?"

Her smile dimmed, but didn't disappear, and she shrugged.  "Sometimes," she said.  "My older brother says that I have serious impulse control issues."

Handing her a cheese pirozhok, he snorted indelicately.  "You do."

"You don't know that," she countered, taking the pastry and biting into it.

"Oh, I think I do," he retorted, jamming half of a potato pirozhok into his mouth.  "Case in point . . ."

"I told you," she shot back rather primly, "I panicked."

He grunted.  "At least Yerik doesn't have that problem."

"Yerik?"

"My brother."

"Oh!  You have a brother, too!  A younger brother, I gather . . ."

He made a face.  "Much younger."

She sighed.  "Are you scared to meet the children?"

"Scared?" he echoed, arching his eyebrows as though the very idea was absurd.

She nodded.  "Because you understand them, don't you?  You had to have lost your parents, didn't you?  So, you know . . ."

He let out a deep breath.  She felt it more than she'd heard it.  He tossed the paper wrapper from his pastry into the fire.  "I'm not scared, no," he told her, his tone a little pensive.  "Even if I do feel bad, though, there's nothing I can do about it.  Is it really a good idea, do you think, for me to go there, to meet these children, to make them hope that things would be different, only for them to be disappointed in the end?"

She sighed, blowing her bangs straight up in the air with the exhalation.  "Would it be so bad?  To give them hope?"  Shifting her eyes to the side, she caught his gaze and held it for a long moment.  "Maybe . . . Maybe you can't change your mind about the funding, but . . . But maybe you can show them that there are better things out there for them, too.  Somewhere, down the line . . . If they work hard?  If they . . . If they dream . . ."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Pirozhki_** _: literally, small pies.  (pirozhok is singular) Pastry or bun stuffed with cabbage, meat, potato, or cheese_.
> 
>  ** _Kvass_** _: a traditional Slavic and fermented beverage commonly made from rye bread.  It is slightly alcoholic but not enough to be considered such by Russian standards.  It can also be flavored with various things, such as strawberries or mint, etc_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
>  _** Quinn
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
>  _** WhisperingWolf ——— Monsterkittie ——— Athena_Evarinya ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— NyteAngel7 ——— minthegreen ———
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
>  _** Nate Grey ——— lianned88
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from Fai**_ :  
>  _A little too curious for her own good_ …


	4. 003: Comedy of Errors

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_3_** ~~  
~ ** _Comedy of Errors_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

"Thank you, Vasili.  I'll call if I require anything else."

Clicking off the cell phone, he handed it over to Saori and watched through narrowed eyes as she carefully stowed it in her pocket once more.  She'd allowed him to borrow hers long enough to call his butler, to ask him to cancel all of his appointments for the next two weeks since it would take that long for them to travel to the orphanage and back again, although why he'd agreed was entirely beyond him.  Common sense told him that he was far too busy to humor this girl, and yet, he couldn't deny that a part of him really did want to see this place.  There were a hundred things that demanded his attention, and here he was, allowing a woman he'd just met—who had tossed him into the back of her van instead of knocking on the door to ask for help when she'd cold cocked him with the van door . . . All in all, a part of him had to wonder if he hadn't knocked something loose in his brain.

' _Except that she's gorgeous,_ ' his youkai-voice pointed out in an entirely pragmatic kind of way.

' _Looks are overrated, especially when she doesn't have an ounce of common sense to back that up._ '

' _Hmm . . . Her eyes, Fai . . . Did you realize that they're blue?  I mean, they look gray, but if you stare at her awhile . . ._ '

He snorted inwardly.  ' _Which I am most certainly not going to do._ '

' _I don't suppose that you noticed her ass, have you?_ '

' _What's wrong with you?_ '

His youkai sighed.  ' _I like her, Fai.  I like her a lot, and her ass?  Just look at it, will you?  Okay, so maybe she is a little too impetuous, but you know, there's something to be said for that, especially when you're the polar opposite.  You really don't have to overanalyze everything, to think every little thing through, to pick apart motive and reason, which is exactly what you do.  She cares about the children—about that orphanage—just like your mother did—and maybe that's not a bad thing, even if she did bruise your ego a little._ '

"I'll . . . I'll buy you a new cell phone as soon as we get to a store," Saori remarked, biting her lip as she kept her eyes focused on the road ahead.

"No need," he replied a little tightly.  His had broken during the kidnapping.

' _Or at some point—maybe when you got clobbered by the door . . ._ '

He snorted inwardly.  ' _Not helping._ '

She didn't look convinced.  "Are you sure?  I mean, it was . . . was my fault in a round-about way, at least . . ."

"It's fine. That one was a few years old already, so I needed an excuse to replace it anyway."

She laughed.  It was an entirely pleasant sound, and still, it grated on his nerves, just the same.  "Can I ask you something?"

"Can I stop you?"

She glanced at him, but her smile widened.  "Well, you wouldn't have to answer me, I guess . . ."

Shifting slightly—there was a rather uncomfortable spring, sticking him in the back—he sighed.  "Go ahead."

"I just wondered . . . How much does it cost to fund the orphanage yearly?"

"A lot," he muttered, glaring out of the smudgy window. "It varies.  Between paying the staff, the regular bills, the costs for schooling, clothing—everything . . ."

She bit her lip, her gaze taking on a slightly clouded sort of expression.  "What about fundraisers?  Not the kind where the children do anything, but a real fundraiser?  The Zeligs—you know, the North American tai-youkai—they have a foundation that holds annual fundraisers to collect donations for their various charities, so . . ."

"I wouldn't know the first thing about arranging something like that, and even if I did, it takes money to make money—and there's no way I could possibly stretch that budget far enough to attract the attention it would require."

"My family is . . . is pretty good at arranging those sorts of things," she ventured.  "If I asked, I'll bet—"

"We don't need anyone's charity," he growled.  The idea of asking anyone for favors?  No, he wouldn't do that . . . The last thing he wanted or needed was for those who already opposed his ascension to the title of tai-youkai to catch wind of something like that.

"But—"

"I said no," he stated flatly, in a tone that left no room at all for debate.

She grimaced.  "I . . . I have money," she said.  "If it would help—"

"You don't have enough to keep the orphanage open," he informed her, struggling to keep a lid on his rising irritation.  "Anyway, it isn't your problem."

"If not mine, then whose?  It's everyone's problem, don't you think?  These children—"

"You can talk until you're blue in the face, and it's not really going to change facts," he told her brusquely.

She sighed, but she did finally let it drop.  He wasn't even slightly deluded into thinking that she was done; not by a long shot.  For now, at least, she was willing to let it go, and he couldn't help but be just a little thankful for that.

The silence that fell between them was deafening.

 

* * *

 

 

The click of stack heels on the tired stone floor resounded in the quiet, echoing in the cavernous hall.  She stopped outside the closed wooden door and tapped precisely two times in short order before taking one step back to wait.

"Come," the deep, gravelly voice called as a soft click and hiss announced the release of the airlock, and she gave the handle a curt twist before stepping into the office.  Glancing up from the opulent desk across the room, his gaze lingered on her for just a moment before summarily dismissing her, the scratch of the pen on paper almost as pronounced as the rhythmic tick of the clock on the prodigious mantle.  "I trust you have good news for me," he said, dispensing of any pleasantries and getting right to the heart of the matter, as it were.

She cleared her throat and strode over, depositing the slim-file on the desk before him.  "As requested: all accounts have been frozen.  Lord Gostoyev bid me tell you, however, that he cannot retain holds on them long—a month, at best."

"A month is enough," Evgeni Feodosiv rumbled.  "It will be enough to bring everything to a screeching halt."

A slight smile twisted her ruby red lips as Katja Petrova slowly nodded, crossing her arms over her chest, careful not to rumple the hopelessly expensive wool jacket.  "You'll ruin his credibility completely," she intoned, arching a delicate eyebrow.

Evgeni chuckled, letting the pen fall from his fingers as he sat back in the heavily upholstered chair.  "That's the plan, yes."

She laughed—a husky, breathy kind of sound.  "Is there anything else you require, my lord?"

Steepling his fingertips together, tapping them in time to the ticking of the clock, he looked rather thoughtful for a long moment.  "Send _him_ word, if you will.  Tell him I want to see him at his earliest convenience."

Her expression gave nothing away of her thoughts, but he knew well enough that Katja despised Taras Stepanovich . . .

She nodded, bowing slightly at the waist as she took a step back without turning away from him.  "As you wish," she said.

Evgeni watched her go, careful to keep his expression completely blanked until she'd closed the door behind herself.  Only after the airlock re-engaged did he finally break into the barest hint of a smile—for him, little more than the slight lightening of his dark gaze.  Letting a long-fingered hand fall onto the smooth surface of the slim-file, he dragged his claws over it slowly, methodically.

He'd come close before—so close that he could taste it—only to have his meticulous plan fall apart because of one man's arrogance.  He'd known from the onset that Gregor's grandstanding could well work against them, and he was right.  That had ended badly, but at least Gregor had been good enough to take his secrets with him into the afterlife.  Evgeni had learned his lesson then—that if he wanted the whole thing to come together, that he'd do best to handle it himself.  But as easy as it could have been, simply to step forward, to voice his grievances and to let things ride in the natural order, he'd realized that the better course—the far more effective one—required a little more brains than brawn.

The plan was absolutely foolproof, and it was coming together much better than he'd dared hope.  Of course, a large amount of credit was due to Katja.  Thanks to her . . . very formidable skills, she'd managed to arrange things without Gostoyev ever suspecting a thing.  No doubt about it, he would have to pay her back for her dedication—her loyalty—just as soon as the dust settled, once and for all.

It was all falling into place, wasn't it?  After so long, after so many setbacks . . . The ruse that he so despised would end soon enough, and then . . .

' _Just a little longer . . . a little more patience . . ._ '

 

* * *

 

 

Fai landed with a terse grunt as he gritted his teeth and rolled to his feet once more.

"Sorry!" Saori said for the umpteenth time in the last hour.  "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He snorted.  "No, just as you didn't the last time—nor the time before that, nor the time before that."

She didn't look entirely convinced as she hitched her shoulders and readied her stance once more.  "If you're sure . . ."

"As if someone with your skills could actually hurt me," he scoffed darkly, ignoring the slight ache in his hip where he'd landed the first time she'd neatly tossed him.

Narrowing her eyes at his blatant taunts as indignant color blossomed in her cheeks, she pointed at him.  "I'm trying not to hurt you, you realize," she pointed out haughtily.  "I could be a lot tougher if I wasn't trying to hold back!"

He rolled his eyes.  "Oh, please.  I'm tai-youkai for a reason," he shot back.

She uttered what could only really be described as a terse little growl.  "Yeah—because your father was tai-youkai before you!"

He wasn't quite expecting it when she sprinted toward him, fists moving so fast that he could only block her on instinct, bringing up his forearm on one side, and then the other, pushing away her ankle when she spun around, kicking up and out.  She switched feet in a blur of motion, giving him just enough time to lift his arms, to prevent her from connecting with the side of his head, before she hopped back and raised her chin in stubborn defiance.  "Not bad," he admitted, letting his hands drop to his sides.  "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"My second-cousin's mate," she replied.  "She's more like an aunt, though, than a second-cousin."

"Is she a martial arts instructor?"

Saori shrugged.  "Nope.  She's a mechanic."

He stared at her for a long moment, trying to decide if she was being serious or not.  She didn't look like she was joking, and he slowly shook his head.  "She's a . . . mechanic . . ."

Giving a curt nod, Saori braced her hands against the small of her back and stretched.  "According to her mate, it's women's work."

Digesting that, he strode over to grab a bottle of water out of the back of the van.  "You have a strange family," he decided.

She didn't disagree. In fact, she laughed.  "They're not—Well, I guess some of them are, a little . . ."

"You have a large family?"

Taking the bottle of water that he offered her, she giggled as she broke the seal around the cap.  "I have a huge family," she corrected him.  "They're all over the place, too—Japan, North America, a couple in Europe . . . I've got a couple cousins in China, one in Australia . . ."

He slowly nodded.  "Do they go around, kidnapping people, too?"

"Of course not!  In fact I—" Cutting herself off abruptly, she whipped around to stare at him, her silvery-blue eyes shining.  "Are you teasing me?"

He snorted, draining half of his water bottle in short order.  "Absolutely not.  I'm making the best of a horrible situation," he replied dryly.  "Does your employer realize that you're a criminal?"

Snapping her mouth closed as her cheeks pinked prettily, she wrinkled her nose and uttered a little 'hrmph' sound.  Reaching for the black denim jacket she'd stripped off just before launching into an attack on him, she shrugged it back on before pulling her long ponytail from the collar and yanking out the scrunchie she'd pulled her hair into.

' _What color do you call that, by the way?_ '

' _Huh?_ '

' _Her hair, stupid.  What color would you call that?_ '

As far as he was concerned, he didn't actually think that deserved an answer.  ' _Not only did she kidnap me, she attacked me, too,_ ' he reminded his youkai-voice, wondering vaguely just why he would have to do any such thing.

' _Stop being such a wuss, will you?  Okay, so maybe you didn't ask to go on this little adventure, but kidnapping is kind of a stretch, given that you could easily walk away from her whenever you want to, and she didn't attack you, per se.  She told you to look out._ '

' _Two seconds before she launched herself at me!  That's hardly fair warning!_ '

' _Yeah, and about that . . . She's good, isn't she?  I mean, maybe she's not as good as you are, but for a woman?  She's got some skills._ '

' _And that was entirely sexist of you to say,_ ' he shot back dryly, wandering off to gather kindling and fire wood for the night.  He'd prefer a hotel, but he highly doubted that they'd find anything nearby, and even if they did, he was pretty positive that it wouldn't be anything worth the money, either.  It wasn't that he minded camping, but he'd also rather that it be a planned outing and that they'd have at least had the foresight to pack a few basics—like blankets, for example . . .

' _I wasn't trying to be sexist.  I was pointing out the obvious.  How many women do you know that are even remotely trained to fight?  Your mother wasn't even trained to defend herself, if you'll recall, which wasn't a huge deal, given that she was never far away from your father—until she was, anyway, but even your great and mighty father couldn't have done a thing to save her, considering what happened . . ._ '

' _So, Saori's learned some martial arts somewhere along the line: a crazy aunt, she said.  It doesn't mean much.  It makes her dangerous, actually.  Someone who has learned a little bit, but not nearly enough to be effective in a real battle, becomes a liability because they don't realize that they'd be better off to stay back out of the way instead of putting everyone else in danger, trying to compensate for their lack of ability._ '

' _Well, that's a damn dickish thing to say, don't you think?_ '

' _That's what they say whenever anyone points out the truth that they don't want to hear._ '

' _You're being awfully presumptuous there, though.  I mean, she told you that she just needed to get some exercise because she's not used to being trapped in a vehicle for so long, and whether you like it or not, you agree because you're not too keen on it, either.  Anyway, at least you got some exercise, even if it's not to the degree you're used to._ '

Which was true enough, even if he hated to agree with his youkai-voice on anything.  He'd started training with his father and with Master Ling, the aged sword master that had come to live with them, when Fai had turned six.  He'd been trained in swordplay, hand to hand combat, harnessing and controlling his youki . . .

He'd never thought to question it, and by the time he'd become tai-youkai, he'd been grateful for it, too.  There were more than enough youkai in Asia that had not been pleased with his ascension to power, and his first official challenge had come less than a week after taking over—less than a week after his father had walked out of the family's home, never to be seen again.

The first ten years of his tenure had seen more challenges than any of the other tai-youkai in the world, he was sure—maybe ever.  In their regions, it was the exception, not the norm, but here, where the general tone was a little more savage, a little wilder, a little more volatile . . . Well, as far as he was concerned, he'd more than proven his ability to hold his title on his own.  After all, he was the last one standing, wasn't he?

 

* * *

 

 

"These are better than the ones from last night . . ."

Glancing up from the fire, Fai lowered the bottle of kvass, shaking his head slowly as Saori picked at the cheese pirozhki.  Tonight, she'd stuck the foil-wrapped turnovers near the fire enough to warm them through, which accounted for the better taste, she figured.  Fai hadn't said much of anything since the impromptu sparring match, but he didn't seem to be in as bad a mood as he had been thus far—at least, the feel of his youki was less abrasive, which seemed like a pretty good sign.

"They were better," he allowed after a moment.  "I've had better, though . . ."

"Oh, I'm sure!" she agreed.  "You've probably eaten in the best restaurants . . . Have you ever stayed at the Bertsche Hotel in Moscow?"

He blinked, looking somewhat confused by her abrupt change of topics.  "Uh, no, I haven't . . ."

She nodded slowly, thoughtfully, as she chewed a bite of the cheesy confection.  "But you could, couldn't you?  I mean, you're tai-youkai, right?  I went sightseeing in Moscow just before I took the job, and I just love the way that place looks on the outside.  I was going to go in, see if I couldn't look around a little, but I was running short of time, so I never got to . . ."

She sighed almost dreamily, remembering the awe that had swept over her as she'd stared at the gorgeous structure.  Even though it was built around 2020, it had been designed to blend in with some of the older Russian architecture.  The pamphlet she'd read—Moscow's Definitive Hotel Guide—had said that it was actually fashioned out of concrete and could withstand nearly any natural disaster known to man, but the façade was gorgeously ornate, and no expense at all had been spared in the design and building of the place.

"I'm not sure what being tai-youkai has to do with staying at the Bertsche Hotel . . ." he ventured at length.

Saori shrugged, crumpling the tin foil into a small ball that she stuck back into the paper bag once more.  "I love architecture," she admitted.  "I couldn't decide if I wanted to study that or child psychology in school."

"So, design buildings for children," he remarked in a rather tongue-in-cheek tone as he lifted the bottle of kvass to his lips once more.

She laughed.  "Like schools or something?  That'd be interesting . . . But the schools here are so much different from they are where I grew up . . ."

"Older?  More run-down?  Laughable?" he supplied almost defensively.

Saori shook her head.  "That's not what I meant," she corrected. "They feel so . . . institutional here; that's all."

"Because they are," he responded simply.  "It's why I was sent abroad for schooling."

"You were?"

He nodded, setting the empty bottle aside, leaning back on his hands and letting his head fall back as he stared up through the tree branches at the few stars that could be seen from beneath the cover.  "Italy," he replied.

"You mean, you lived there, all the time?"

The look he shot her was rather dry, as though he thought the idea of having attended a boarding school was normal.  "Yes.  I usually came home over the summers, though—well, here or to the beach house my parents owned in Sri Lanka—wherever they were."

"How exotic!" she breathed, her eyes taking on a glassy sort of sheen as instant images of the tropics came to mind.  Palm trees and beaches and crystal blue waters . . .

' _Saori . . ._ '

' _Hmm?_ '

' _Maybe you should change the topic._ '

' _What do you think it'd be like, to vacation every year somewhere like Sri Lanka?_ '

' _I don't know, but Fai-sama doesn't look too happy about this discussion . . ._ '

' _What do you mean?_ '

Her youkai-voice sighed.  ' _Look at his face, Saori._ '

She did.  Then she frowned.

He was still staring upward, but her youkai was right: the scowl on his face was impossible to miss, and it hadn't been there earlier.  It was even darker, more foreboding, than any of the others he had sported thus far, and she had to wonder why.

Biting her lip as she cautiously drew a deep breath, she shook her head.  For some reason, she just couldn't bring herself to ask him about it, could she?  Couldn't bring herself to question him about what was bothering him so much . . . It was . . . too personal, wasn't it?  Whatever caused him to look like that . . . and she most certainly didn't have the right to ask him about anything that intimate; not now.  "Does your brother go to boarding school, too?" she asked, hoping that it wasn't what had caused him to scowl like that.

Fai sighed, lowered his head once more as he gazed intently at the fire.  "He did.  He finished school last year.  Currently, he attends Novosibirsk State University.  Chose to live on campus . . ." He shrugged almost offhandedly.  "Probably tired of having to answer to me all the time . . ."

"But I thought you said that you get along all right . . .?" she prompted.

He shot her a quick glance, but at least that foreboding sense was gone from his expression, much to her relief.  "We do," he said.  "Well, we usually do.  Lately, not so much."

She considered that for a moment.  "Can I ask why?  If you don't want to answer, I understand.  It's just . . ."

"Surely you don't always see eye-to-eye with your brother," he countered, arching an eyebrow at her to emphasize his question.

She wrinkled her nose.  "Most of the time . . . But then, he's also a lot older than me, so I guess we never had the typical sibling rivalry.  Nii-chan is kind of like a second father, really.  Most of the time, I like having him there to give me advice or to help me if I need it.  Sometimes, though, it can be a little too much . . ."

Fai grunted.  "Then you understand perfectly," he said.

Saori frowned, but remained silent.  Sure, she might understand the idea of not always agreeing with Rinji all the time, but somehow, she felt like there was more to it—more that Fai hadn't explained . . . and maybe she didn't really understand, at all . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Silent Reader
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— WhisperingWolf
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _She … is interesting_ …


	5. 004: Backwoods

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_4_** ~~

~ ** _Backwoods_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

"So, your brother . . . He's your much younger brother, you said?"

Without taking his eyes off the road, Fai grunted in response.  "Yes," he replied, stifling the urge to sigh since it was the first question Saori had asked all morning despite her endless line of babble that he'd endured since he'd offered to drive awhile.  He still wasn't sure why he'd offered, and was even less sure, why she'd let him, but at least it cut into the absolute boredom of having nothing at all to distract him since the old van's radio didn't work—along with most of the other luxuries that might have been installed when the vehicle was new.

She nodded.  He could feel her gaze on him, but didn't look to verify it.  Something about her eyes . . . "How _much_ younger is he?  Yerik?  That's his name?"

Refreshing his grip on the steering wheel, he gritted his teeth when the van hit a rather nasty spot in the road.  "Yes, his name is Yerik, and he's eighteen—barely."

"Is he like you?"

"Meaning?"

She laughed softly, the scent of her hair coming to him on the breeze blowing through the open windows.  Something exotic, a flower or a tree?  He didn't know, but it was . . . pleasant . . . "Nothing bad," she assured him.  "Just . . . You're so serious—probably because you're tai-youkai, and that's such a heavy responsibility . . ."

"What would you know about any of that?"

"Is it hard to believe that I could understand how much rests on your shoulders?" she challenged instead.

He grunted.  "If you're aware of how much responsibility I have, then you wouldn't have kidnapped me," he parried.

She sighed.  "I did apologize for that," she reminded him.  "Besides, 'kidnap' has such a negative connotation, don't you think?  Can't we just say that I . . ." Trailing off, she tilted her head to the side and considered what she wanted to say.  Suddenly, though, she snapped her fingers and pointed at him.  "—That I _appropriated_ you for awhile?"

"No, I don't think we can, and of _course_ 'kidnap' has a negative connotation—there's no _positive_ way to kidnap someone, Saori," he growled.

She made an exaggeratedly tortured face.  "I would still rather say that I appropriated you," she pointed out in a sulky tone.

He was saved from answering, however, when the van jerked, lurched, and with a muttered curse, he maneuvered it off of the road as billows of smoke started issuing from the hood of the beast.

"Did you break it?" she asked, almost accusingly, as she stumbled out of her door while he yanked on the hood release.

"Of course not!" he growled, slamming the driver's side door and stomping around the van, pushing her out of the way to unlatch the hood, only to jerk back when the steam rushed out.  "Damn it!"

"Let me see," she said, stepping forward, leaning over the steaming engine.  Waving a hand to disburse the smoke, she reached down, messing with a few tubes and wires.  He was about to scoff at her since he honestly didn't think she had a clue, any more than he did, but she sighed and stepped back, shaking her head as she reached up to pull the hood down.  "The hose that goes to the radiator has dry-rotted through, which is a simple enough fix if we were in town—and if the engine wasn't damaged by the high levels of heat.  That aside, it looks like it blew out all the oil, and that's a bad, bad sign . . ." Letting out a deep breath, she slowly shook her head.  "I think that the engine is probably locked up, and if that's the case . . ."

"Yes?" he prompted when she trailed off, scowling at the troubled expression that drew her eyebrows together.

She shot him a sober glance before letting her gaze shift back to the van once more.  "I think the engine's shot."

"How do you know that?"

She shrugged, rubbing her hands together to brush off whatever dirt she could.  "I used to like to hang out with Nezumi-oba-chan and help her work on cars," she explained, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.  "I'm not a mechanic, by any means, but I can usually tell what's wrong if it's pretty straightforward, like this is . . ."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back just far enough to pin her with a rather condescending look.  "Which means . . .?"

She sighed.  "Well, it means . . . I hope you like walking, Fai-sama."

He stared at her for another long moment before striding back the way they'd come.

"Where are you going?" she called, hurrying after him.

"Home," he said without breaking his stride.

She dashed around him, planting her hands in the center of his chest.  "What?  No!  You can't do that!  You've got to come meet the children!"

He snorted.  "Give me one good reason why I should do that, give that we're days away from there _and_ now without transportation?"

She wrinkled her nose.  "Because you blew up the van," she pointed out.

His mouth dropped open, and he opened and closed it a few times.  "That wasn't my fault!" he growled, pointing back at the huge paperweight beside the road.  "I didn't do anything to it!  It was already on its last legs, so you can't blame me for that!"

"But you were driving, and it was fine, and then it stopped _while_ you were _still_ driving, and it won't run now, so I think the evidence is pretty clearly stacked against you, Fai-sama."

Narrowing his eyes on her, making a point of giving her hands a very significant look, he snorted indelicately.  "Entirely not my fault," he grumbled.

"Do you know that it was the only decent vehicle that the orphanage even had?" she challenged.

He rolled his eyes.  "Yet another reason why the place is too expensive to keep open," he shot back.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked positively exultant.  "And _you_ blew it up."

"It's not working," he informed her brusquely, stepping around her and continuing along the side of the road.

"You're tai-youkai," she said.  "You know that this area's pretty dangerous, don't you?"

"You're tough.  You know martial arts.  You can handle it."

She rolled her eyes as she scuffed her feet against the asphalt—he could hear the scrape of her shoes.  "As tai-youkai, it's your job to look after those who cannot take care of themselves," she reminded him.

He hesitated in his gait, but ultimately kept moving.  "Are you saying you can't take care of yourself?" he parried.

"I meant the orphans," she muttered under her breath.

He didn't respond to that, but he did tighten his jaw.

"Would you really make me travel the rest of the way _alone?_ " she called after him.

"Yes—because you kidnapped me."

" _Appropriated!_ " she ground out.  "You'll feel bad if something happens to me!  What if I'm attacked by a wild animal?"

"Catch them a fish with your bare hands, then run."

She snorted.  "Or a stranger?"

"Anyone you encounter will definitely leave you alone."

"How would you know?"

"Because you never shut up, and they'll dump you back where they found you because you'll annoy the hell out of them."

" _O-O-O-O-Oh!_ "

He lifted a hand to wave over his shoulder without looking back.

She sighed.  He heard her, but he had the distinct feeling that she hadn't actually meant for him to, and he frowned.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry I bothered you," she said, her quiet voice carrying back to him, just the same.

' _Tell me you're not really going to just walk away from her._ '

' _Then don't ask._ '

' _. . . She's right, you know.  It_ is _your job to watch out for those who are too weak to do that for themselves._ '

' _It's not that simple, and you know it._ '

' _And you know that the rest of what she said is true, too.  This area . . . It's not the safest.  The Bershetoyevs and the Kyranyovitch factions, people come under fire all the time around here, and yeah, they have that agreement right now, but all it takes is one slip-up to reignite the small-scale war that's been going on for years, and she's about to try walking through the thick of it . . ._ '

' _And maybe she ought to have considered that before she decided to kidnap me._ '

' _Good God, are you still stuck on that?_ '

Heaving a sigh, Fai quickened his pace, opting instead to ignore his youkai-voice.  He'd humored her, hadn't he?  Sparing enough time to drive out to the orphanage was one thing.  Having to finish the trip on foot was quite another, and he'd wasted enough time, as it was.  If he were lucky, he'd be able to arrange transportation to get home back in the last town they'd passed through, even if he ended up, having to buy someone's car to do it . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Yerik Demyanov stepped into the castle with a long, drawn-out sigh, dropping the leather satchel on the floor as he raked a hand through his unruly golden hair, his emerald green eyes shifting quickly over the quiet grand entryway—across the marble floor, flickering over the two great pillars that flanked the wide stone staircase.

"Lord Demyanov," Vasili, the aged butler, greeted with a low bow.  "Will you be staying long?"

Yerik shifted his scowl onto the mink-youkai.  Though he seemed to be the absolute visage of patience, Yerik knew better.  Nothing ever happened under the Demyanov roof without that particular being knowing everything there was to know about it.  "I don't know," he replied curtly.  "Tell me why I haven't been able to reach my brother—why I keep getting sent straight to voicemail."

Vasili strode over and helped Yerik remove his leather jacket.  He shook it out, quickly flipping it back and forth to inspect for anything that might require his attention before hanging it quickly in the hall closet.  "His Grace is taking care of some business—he said."

Yerik's scowl deepened as he narrowed his gaze just a little more at the butler.  Entirely unflappable, of course, with every bit of his clothing in perfect array.  To the average bystander, there was nothing at all amiss in Vasili's stance or presentation.  Yerik knew better, though.  The slight hint of strain evident at the corners of his black gaze . . . a certain tightness around his mouth . . . There was something else that he wasn't saying, wasn't there?  But . . . "What aren't you saying?" he demanded.

Not surprisingly, Vasili slowly, pointedly, looked around.  There wasn't anyone else in the great hall, but Yerik nodded in silent understanding, turning on his heel and leading the way down the short corridor that led to his brother's office.  Only after the door had closed behind them—a thick, impossibly heavy wooden door that didn't allow much in the way of sound to permeate it—did Vasili let out a deep breath.  "He only called yesterday to ask me to cancel his appointments for the next two weeks," he admitted as he quietly glided across the floor to fill a glass with vodka for Yerik.  "He's been . . . missing . . . since Monday."

"Missing?" Yerik echoed incredulously, knowing that there wasn't any way that Vasili would just casually toss out a word like that.  "And why the hell am I just now hearing about this?" he growled, snatching the glass from the butler's hand and glowering at the man.  Then he snorted.  "Let me guess: _His Grace_ instructed you not to tell me.  Am I right?"

Vasili had the decency to lower his gaze for a long moment.  "He wishes for you to continue with your schooling without interruption," he replied.

"Of course he does," Yerik snarled, slugging back the drink before slamming the empty glass on a nearby table.  "Do you have any idea where he is?  Why he took off?"

"He didn't say—and it's hardly my place to ask."

"Then why do you say that he was _'missing'_?" Yerik challenged.

"His Grace would like for you to return to the university forthwith," Vasili insisted mildly, flicking an imaginary bit of dust off of the immaculate sleeve of his pristine white shirt.  In fact, Yerik couldn't remember having ever seen the youkai looking any less than perfectly turned out, and now was no exception.  Even his long, deep brown hair was neatly pulled back into a low-hanging ponytail, exactly in the center of the slate grey broadcloth vest.

Yerik narrowed his gaze on the butler, as though he were daring him to lie.  "Was he challenged again?"

This time, Vasili shook his head.  "Not to my knowledge," he allowed.  "All I know is that he was leaving to meet with Lord Chim regarding the Chinese sanctions, and he never showed up for it.  However, when he called, he said he was fine."

For some reason, the whole scenario just didn't strike Yerik as all right.  After all, he knew his brother better than anyone, didn't he?  It wasn't at all like Fai to blow off a meeting, especially one as important as the Chinese sanctions, without damn good reason . . .

' _Unless . . ._ '

' _Unless . . .?_ '

' _Unless he's being monitored.  I mean, if that were the case, then he'd take care to make Vasili think that he's all right, now wouldn't he?_ '

Yerik wasn't entirely sure if he agreed with that.  Even if Fai tried to do that, Vasili was not stupid.  In fact, he was one of the most astute people that Yerik knew.  Whatever had happened, the butler didn't seem to believe that Fai was in any kind of danger, but if that were the case, then just what had happened . . .?

"Did Fai give any indication as to where he is now?" Yerik asked instead, hating that he had to ask, but any kind of lead was better than nothing . . .

"No," he replied with a thoughtful scowl.  "However . . ."

Gritting his teeth, willing himself not to light into the old butler, Yerik sighed and counted to twenty.  "However . . .?" he prompted.

Vasili stared at him for a long moment, as though he were trying to make up his mind about something.  In the end, he gave one curt nod.  "His Grace said that his phone was broken, so he was borrowing someone else's.  Assuming that this 'someone' is the person he left with, the zone code was that of Chukotka."

"Chukotka?  What the hell would he be doing from someone from there?  Did a name come up with the number?"

He shook his head.  "Just the number, and, given the situation, I felt it was best, not to try to delve too deeply into it."

Yerik nodded, raking his hands through his hair as he paced the length of the study and back again.  True enough, given the general unrest of the region, it was better not to give any indication that things might be happening.  That only made locating Fai that much more difficult, though . . .

"His Grace didn't take anything with him, either," Vasili relented.  "Just his wallet, but he didn't take any clothing—nothing that would indicate that his departure was planned in any way."

It didn't feel right, did it?  It wasn't at all like Fai to just take off with someone—anyone.  Too serious, too methodic—far too cautious . . . No, there wasn't any way that he'd have just decided to randomly up and leave.

The problem was, Fai didn't employ many hunters: only a handful of them, and they were all stationed outside of Russia, and even if Yerik knew how to get a hold of any of them, it would take them far too long to get here.  Telling anyone else about the situation wasn't even a consideration, either.  As far as Yerik could tell, there really was only one real solution.

"Did Fai leave his keys?" he asked, turning back to face the butler.

Vasili nodded and gestured at the wide desk on the far side of the room.  "I believe His Grace kept his spare fob in there."

Yerik nodded, altering his course to head toward the desk instead.  "Can you pack me a few changes of clothes?  I'll be leaving as soon as I can."

Vasili bowed.  "As you wish, my lord."

 

* * *

 

 

Wrapping her arms around her raised knees as she huddled against the rough stone overhang, Saori let out a deep breath as she gazed at the merrily dancing flames of the fire she'd built to cook the small rabbit she'd caught for dinner.  She'd already eaten what she could, and she really ought to toss away the rest of it before the smell of the cooked meat lured unwanted visitors to her makeshift camp, but the idea of wasting the food bothered her, too.

It wouldn't be so bad, she thought, if she didn't feel so completely alone.  She wasn't afraid, exactly, but she couldn't help but to feel the sense of isolation that had grown worse when she'd discovered that her cell phone was dead.  She supposed she'd always been a rather social person, so the idea of traveling entirely alone did bother her.

When she'd graduated from college last year, she'd opted to take a month, traveling all over Japan to visit shrines and to generally unwind and enjoy herself, and she'd gone alone, but she hadn't realized that she wasn't really alone, either.  She'd met people, participated in some small groups with others around her age who were doing the same thing.  The majority of them, however, were taking advantage in the short break between high school graduation and starting at the university or starting their careers.  Saori had skipped a few grades, though, so she had always been younger than anyone else in her classes.  This was different—entirely different.  Out here, there was no one else—not another soul—and the silence could be deafening . . .

She hadn't realized that before, either: the difference between the ambient sounds of the world and the sounds made by another intellectual being.  She supposed that, on some level, the songs of the birds and the whisper of the wind in the trees was comforting, but none of those things could talk to her, could distract her from the passage of minutes or hours.

' _It's too bad that he refused to come with us,_ ' her youkai-voice ventured.  It had also remained conspicuously quiet all day, too.

She stifled a sigh, letting her chin drop on her raised knees.  ' _I suppose it can't be helped,_ ' she mused.  ' _I mean, I did kidnap—I mean, appropriate—him, to start with, and it's not like I could have dragged him off against his will anymore than I already did . . ._ '

' _Maybe you should have cried a little._ '

She snorted.  ' _Like I'd resort to that!_ ' she scoffed.  ' _That'd be a really rotten thing to do!_ '

' _Maybe, but it might have worked, too!  He seemed like a decent kind of person overall—well, if you discount the idea that he's set to leave a bunch of orphans high and dry, that is . . ._ '

' _That's not his fault.  I mean, I don't like it, but if there's not enough money, then there's just not enough money . . ._ '

' _You're defending him?_ '

She scowled at the fire, slowly shook her head.  ' _Hardly!  I'm simply being logical here—pragmatic, even.  That's all . . ._ '

' _So . . . You wouldn't resort to tears to get your way, but you_ kidnapped _the man?_ '

' _Appropriated!_ '

' _You can't put a nice face on a felony, Saori!_ '

' _But that was your idea, not mine!_ '

' _Yeah?  And you're the one in control of the body, and you went with it, so it's more your fault than mine._ '

Snapping her mouth closed at the ridiculousness of the current discussion, Saori let out a deep breath.  Sometimes, she thought that her youkai-voice was out to get her.  After all, everyone else seemed to think that their voices were calm and even helpful.  Hers?

Hers tended to like to see just how much trouble it could get them into at any given moment, she was certain.

If she had a yen for every time her youkai voice prompted her to do something, only for her to figure out later that it might not have been the smartest thing in the world, she'd be rich already.  It seemed like it had been that way from the moment she could hear the voice and understand just what it was suggesting.

It figured.

' _If I'm that bad, then maybe you should learn how to ignore me—or do the opposite of what I suggest,_ ' the voice huffed.

' _Maybe I should,_ ' she allowed.

Her mother, for the most part, tended to find her antics amusing—even endearing.  Her father and brother?  Not nearly as much, she figured, because they were the ones who tended to bail her out of trouble—like the time her youkai-voice had suggested that she climb onto the top of the martial arts dome at school, which wouldn't have been nearly as bad had her great-uncle not been forced to rescue her when she realized just how far off the ground she was and that she was too scared to get down the same way she'd gotten up there, in the first place.  The entire school had ground to a stop to watch as Izayoi InuYasha had retrieved her, tossing her over his shoulder since he was more than a little irritated that she'd done it, in the first place.

That escapade had cost Senkuro Seiji a healthy donation to the martial arts department after all was said and done . . .

' _The only reason oji-chan was mad was because that dome can be seen from some of the area office buildings—if they were looking at the time.  There never was a write up or anything in the newspapers, so it's a safe bet that no one noticed._ '

She sighed.  Considering she still remembered the lecture she'd received when she got home that day well enough, she wasn't sure she'd look at it as, 'nothing much' . . .

Rubbing her upper arms as she huddled a little smaller against the ledge, she frowned.  The temperature had dropped a lot more than it had on the previous nights, and she bit her lip.  She hadn't realized that it was going to get so chilly or she'd have taken the time to find better shelter or build something.

' _Might as well get moving for a little bit—at least, long enough to warm up some,_ ' she thought as she pushed herself to her feet.  After all, it wasn't that late, and if it were already this chilly, it would only get worse, so she figured that gathering a bit more firewood would be a good plan.

In the distance, she could hear the sounds of wolves, but they weren't near enough to concern her.  Pausing long enough to tilt her head back, to stare up at the low-hanging stars that dotted the clear skies overhead, even through the network of tree branches, she couldn't help the little smile that touched her lips.  Funny how she hadn't realized, just how many stars she hadn't seen growing up.

When she was younger, the family had split its time between Hong Kong, where Taishosoft—the branch of Inutaisho Industries that Aiko and Seiji had been given as a wedding present years ago—was located and Tokyo.  Saori's uncle, Toga had taken over the bulk of the family business: the conglomerate that was comprised of a number of various enterprises, but all of them centered in the tech industry, but Aiko, with Seiji, had taken over the software development company.  It wasn't until later, when Saori was old enough to start school, that they'd opted to relocate their main office to Tokyo.  Seiji was the actual chairman of the board, but Aiko enjoyed her spot in research and development well enough.  Aiko had said often enough over the years that running the business side of things was boring, but tinkering with code?  That was her true niche, and she, along with her team, had been the masterminds behind the wildly successful office suite, _Intelliface_ , which tended to be the program of choice these days . . .

Saori supposed that most people had just assumed that she'd follow right along in her parents' and even her brother's footsteps and take a job at Taishosoft.  She had opted to go her own way, though, since the idea of sitting in front of a computer all day was just not something she'd ever entertained.  Seiji loved the business side of it as much as Aiko thrived in her chosen role.  Rinji was her father's right-hand man, so to speak, though he, too, tended to dabble in research and development, as well.

Saori, though . . .

They said she was a child prodigy.  She, like Rinji, had excelled in school, but she'd never been interested in academics the way her brother was.  No, she tended to be more fascinated with people—with the psychology of them—which had led her here, she supposed.

There was just something highly fulfilling about working with children, in helping children find their own paths.  Seeing the way a child could blossom when given the right encouragement . . . It would never make her rich, and that was fine.  Thanks to the very healthy trust funds—one from her parents and another from her esteemed grandfather—she never really had to worry about stuff like that.  She, like many in her family, tended to just live off the interest that the funds generated, anyway, and with a money whiz in the family like her distant cousin by marriage, Gavin, she knew well enough that her already sizeable wealth had only grown in the last year or so . . .

Still, as much money as she had access to, she was pretty certain that it wouldn't be nearly enough to keep the orphanage running indefinitely.  But she did still have a few options, as much as she hated to do it.  Trying to convince Fai-sama to change his mind had only been the most preferable of them.  If she had to, though, she wasn't above going to her family and seeing if there was anyone who would be willing to help underwrite the facility.  Sesshoumaru and Kagura might, if only for her sake, and then, there were Gin and Cain Zelig and their foundation.  They usually only took on charities in North America, but maybe they would make an exception in this case.

She just didn't want to go to them if she could help it.  The chairman, like most Russians she'd come into contact with, tended to view foreigners with a healthy dose of distrust, and the staff tended to hold a generally unfavorable view of those whom they considered to be the upper echelon, especially those from North America, the land of excess, in their minds . . .

Too bad she didn't really have much of a choice in it anymore.  Hopefully, though, they would see her suggestion of looking for funding outside of the country as the best answer for the dilemma at hand.

She grimaced since it all kind of sounded to her like really wishful thinking.  Her only real hope was that she could make the chairman see past his general disdain and to get him to focus on the good of the children.

The immediate problem, however, was that she could get some sleep—maybe—or she could keep the fire going for some warmth, but she really couldn't do both.  She could, she supposed, empty out the sweatshirt she'd tied into a makeshift backpack to carry back the children's things that she'd brought along to help personalize the children for Fai-sama's sake, but she didn't really like the idea of scattering their precious belongings all over the ground, either, especially if it were to rain.  At the moment, she didn't think it would, but one never knew, this time of year . . .

And she'd left her suitcase behind, too, taking only the sweatshirt, an extra pair of panties, and an extra bra since there wasn't much room in the garment to stuff much else, but it was just her out here, so it wouldn't really matter if she stank or not . . .

Letting out a deep breath, she turned to head back to the fire, only to stop short, her eyes flaring wide at what she thought she saw.

' _But . . . That can't . . . be . . ._ '

Hunkered down next to the fire, not bothering to look at her as he slowly, methodically, stripped meat off the cooked rabbit she'd left on a bed of clean leaves . . . He didn't look any worse for wear, and she wasn't entirely sure where he'd come from, either, since she hadn't sensed anyone following her during the day.  Then again, what did it matter, really?  It didn't, especially when her heart seemed to grind to a painful halt, only to hammer wildly against her ribcage a minute later as a strange and foreign sense of near-giddiness brought a smile to her lips as she stood there, watching him.

"Fai-sama . . ."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Chukotka_** _: a federal subject (an autonomous okrug) of Russia_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** — — —
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Athena_Evarinya ——— minthegreen ——— Okmeamithinknow
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _He followed me_!


	6. 005: Hubris

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_5_** ~~  
~ ** _Hubris_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

"This area is dangerous."

Fai didn't move, didn't look up, as he continued to devour what was left of the rabbit.  Saori blinked and stepped forward.  "Is . . .? Is that why you came to find me?"

He finally glanced up at her, hazel eyes dark in the wan light.  "Yeah, let's go with that," he muttered, turning his attention back to the rabbit in his hands.  He seemed to be considering something for a long moment, and then he sighed.  "You want some?" he asked almost grudgingly, holding up the carcass in her direction.

She waved a hand and pressed her lips together to stave back the smile that threatened.  "I already ate," she told him.  "Help yourself."

He didn't argue with her as he bit into it once more.  "Needs a little salt," he said around a mouthful of meat.

"I'll get some if we come across a town," she assured him, stacking the wood she'd gathered carefully before arranging a couple of stout logs on the fire.  "Before I left the orphanage, the director warned me about this area.  Is there a reason?  Is it just tougher?"

He gave a little shrug.  "The Bershetoyevs and the Kyranyovitch factions," he replied, tossing a few bones into the fire.  "They've been at it for . . . Well, for longer than I've been alive, I guess.  They're two packs of wolf-youkai—the Bershetoyevs are tundra-wolf-youkai led by a woman named Tanja who claims that the region has always belonged to her pack, and the Kyranyovitch faction—Tibetian wolves that migrated north from China after their leader at the time took a grey wolf to mate, thus giving them rights to the same land—or so they claim.  They're led by a man named Bojing, who is not a people-person.  They tend to have flare ups now and then, then they'll fall silent for a time.  Given that it's been awhile since their last altercation, it's just a matter of time before it starts up again."

She considered that and nodded slowly.  "Why haven't you put a stop to it?"

The look he shot her told her quite plainly that she was being a little simplistic, at least, in his opinion.  "You work with children, right?"

She nodded.

So did he.  "Then you know that children pick at each other over and over again until someone snaps, right?  Consider these two groups to be like children who never learned how to play nicely with others."

She snorted.  "But you're tai-youkai.  Can't you—?"

"Can't I, what?  Slap their hands and send them all to time-out?  No, I can't.  So far, they've only actually hurt each other, and as long as they keep it that way, then I'm not inclined to bother with them.  They're not interested in getting along, anyway, so it wouldn't matter what I said to them, none of them will listen to me, no matter who I am or what title I might have."

Sinking down on the ground, she wrapped her arms around her raised knees and shrugged.  "Maybe if you sat them all down and _talked_ to them . . ."

"They're beyond sitting down and talking," he assured her.  "It has been awhile since they've actually killed anyone, so at this point, I'll take what I can get."

"They _kill_ each other?"

"Yes.  I mean, what do you think they do in a fight?  Play 'rock, paper, scissors'?"

"That's barbaric," she mumbled.

He sighed, giving the bones a last turn in his hand before tossing them into the fire with the others.   "Things here are not like they are in Japan or . . . or anywhere else you've probably been," he informed her, taking his time, licking the rabbit juice off his fingers.  "The fighting is fair enough.  They only engage in hand-to-hand combat."

She fell silent, biting her lip as she considered what he'd said.  To him, it had sounded so pragmatic, so matter-of-fact.  To her, it was . . . was horrifying on some level . . .

He sighed, making a face as he wiped his hands on his slacks.  "You've seen the numbers of orphans that we have here.  That should be enough to tell you that life here is a lot different.  They don't have orphanages for our kind in Japan or anywhere else, really—maybe in Africa . . . They're able to place their orphans easily enough.  It's not that simple here.  Most people barely have enough money to support themselves, never mind a child, and those who have the means?  They're not interested in someone else's children.  If it were up to me . . ."

"If it were up to you . . .?" she prompted when he trailed off.

He leaned forward slightly, balancing on the balls of his feet, shoulders hunched forward, hands dangling between his parted knees as he frowned thoughtfully at the dancing flames.  "If it were up to me, I'd find homes for them all so that there was no need for the orphanage, to begin with."  He gritted his teeth, shook his head.  "Again, it's not that simple."

"What about . . . What about approaching the other tai-youkai?  I mean, maybe they can help you find homes for them all?"

"We don't need their charity," he retorted stiffly.

She winced since she really wasn't trying to offend him.  "It wouldn't be charity.  It would be finding homes— _real_ homes—for these children," she explained.

He didn't look convinced, and she stifled a sigh.

 

* * *

 

 

Shrugging off the brand new backpack, Fai let it fall onto the ground with a heavy thump.  Saori's bag landed next to his along with the makeshift pack she'd fashioned out of a sweatshirt that held the children's precious things, and she braced her hands against the small of her back so that she could stretch.  "This looks like a decent spot," she said to no one in particular as she slowly scanned the small clearing.

Fai grunted something entirely unintelligible as he started gathering kindling for a fire.  Given that he'd have rather stayed in the small village they'd found, he wasn't exactly in complete agreement, but they'd wandered into the town early this morning, and suggesting that they pack it in for the day just wasn't exactly feasible.

' _And just why were all your account cards declined?_ ' his youkai-voice prodded.

He frowned.  He didn't rightfully know, and it had grated on his nerves even more, given that everything they'd bought in the small store—the only store in the town—was paid for by Saori.  He'd pay her back later, he told himself stubbornly.  It irritated the crap out of him to be beholden to anyone, especially a female someone who had kidnapped him, to start with.

She'd even offered to see if she couldn't buy a car off one of the locals, which had only furthered his overall pique.  He wasn't sure if it was good or bad that they hadn't found anyone willing to part with their automobile, but at least, he supposed, it had spared his pride just a little.

The small department store hadn't had any tents, which figured.  They had bought a tarp, though, so he figured it would have to do, especially when the overcast skies still hadn't let loose yet, though he had little doubt that a good rain was on its way . . .

"There's a stream over that way," she said, breaking through the silence that had fallen.  "Do you want to go catch some fish for dinner?  I can work on building a shelter for the night . . ."

Draping his hands on his hips, he cocked an eyebrow at her.  "And just how will I do that when we didn't buy any fishing line or anything?" he countered.

She blinked and turned her head to stare at him, the plastic-wrapped tarp hanging from her hands.  The expression on her face said quite plainly that she was trying to decide if he were serious or not, and he narrowed his eyes.  "But you don't need anything to fish," she finally said.

"Of course, you do!" he scoffed.  "How else are you going to catch them?"

She looked genuinely confused by his claim, and she slowly shook her head.  "With your hands . . ."

Snapping his mouth closed on the retort he'd been forming in his head, Fai could only shake his head slowly.  "What?"

She shrugged, turning her attention back to her task as she yanked the plastic bag containing the tarp open.  "You just stand there, wait for the fish to come to you, and grab them," she said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

"And who told you that crap?"

She glanced at him before sticking the corner of the plastic pack into her mouth to tear it open.  "Oji-chan," she replied.

He grunted.  "Oji-chan is full of shit."

She giggled.  "Are you going to tell him that?"

"If he were here, I would."

For some reason, that amused her even more.  Her cheeks pinked as she waved a hand in front of her face, her giggles filling the air in a very pleasant kind of way that still grated on his nerves.  "If you ever do, I want to be there to see his reaction," she chortled.

He snorted.  "All right, if you're so smart.  You go fish, and I'll set up the shelter."

Her smile didn't diminish as she handed him the tarp and headed off toward the stream.

Heaving a sigh, he turned his attention to building a shelter.  They had bought a large ball of twine, so it didn't take him long to lash together two long, stout branches to an even longer third one that he let rest on the ground.  Then he lashed the tarp to the branches and secured the edges with a few bright yellow tent spikes.

All in all, he was pretty pleased with his efforts, and he spared a moment to survey it before using his feet to scrape away debris from a small circle for the fire not too far away.  A few minutes later, he had a decent fire going, too, and, all in all, he felt rather accomplished.

' _I don't know, Fai . . . Maybe we should go see if we can't hunt down a rabbit or something because she's never, ever going to catch fish with nothing but her hands . . ._ '

He grunted, crossing his arms over his chest as he slowly shook his head.  ' _I just single-handedly set up camp.  Do I have to do everything?_ '

' _It would depend upon just how hungry you are._ '

He sighed.  ' _Point taken._ '

It didn't take long for him to catch the scent of a rabbit, and tracking it down was no problem, either.  As he crouched in a thicket of brush, he narrowed his eyes as the fat ball of fluff emerged from a small den and slowly glanced around.  He was downwind, so she couldn't smell him, but she still hesitated before turning around slowly.

Fai braced himself, ready to launch himself at his prey, only to stop at the last moment when five little, tiny heads popped out of the den behind her, and he frowned.

' _You . . . You don't want to go after her because of those babies?_ '

Making a face, he sat back as the tiny bunnies hopped around their mother.

' _You're going soft!_ '

Ignoring the disbelief in his youkai's voice, he scooted away from the rabbits.  After all, there were other things around.  It would be fine.  All he had to do was find something else—something without babies—and it would all be good.

 

* * *

 

 

"Here."

Fai shot Saori a rather pointed look as he slowly reached out to take the staked fish from her without a word.

She stifled a sigh and sat back, having already eaten two of the five fish she'd caught, cleaned, and cooked over the open fire.  For reasons she didn't really understand, he hadn't said much more than a few words to her since he'd wandered back into camp.  At the time, she'd figured he was just off, answering nature's call or something like that.  Now, though . . . Well, she really didn't know what to make of his strange and almost angry behavior . . .

Digging a bottle of water out of her bag, she broke the seal and sipped it, casting Fai a sidelong look.  What unsettled her most about him was just how hard it was to read his expression.  The frown on his face seemed to be his general expression, and she bit her lip as she wondered just why it would be that someone like him should look like that most of the time.

' _Are you kidding?  He's tai-youkai, and you know that this region isn't nearly as docile as Japan or even North America . . ._ '

That was true enough.  She'd heard whispers from time to time, hadn't she?  Though she hadn't really paid as much attention to the topic of tai-youkai business, she had been around it all of her life, especially when she spent time with her grandparents or even her great-uncle and great-aunt.  She supposed that it was normal, given who her family was, and, while she couldn't remember specifics, she did recall vaguely how Asia had been spoken of as a harder region to manage, to the point that she remembered one discussion in particular where her uncle, Toga had suggested breaking Asia into two regions to make it easier.  Sesshoumaru had nixed that idea, saying that he had every faith that the current tai-youkai could manage very well, even if he was a little young.  To her knowledge, that discussion had never been revisited, either . . .

Looking at Fai, however, she had to wonder what he'd think of such an idea . . .

"You bought fishing line and hid it, didn't you?" he finally asked, breaking the silence as he stripped fish off the bones.

Her mouth dropped open for a moment before she snapped it closed.  "You know I didn't," she reminded him since he'd been standing right there with her when she paid for the supplies.  "I caught them just like I said I would."

He grunted.  Then he heaved a longsuffering sigh.  "Thank you," he growled, sounding even more irritated by the second.

She sighed, stretching out her legs, leaning back on her hands.  "I guess in my family, we're used to fishing like that and stuff, so it didn't occur to me that we should buy fishing line," she explained.  "We liked to go camping when I was younger.  My whole family, really—well, maybe not all at the same time, but . . . But oji-chan taught us all to fish and so I grew up, thinking that his way is normal . . . Did you go camping and stuff as a pup, too?"

Tossing the carcass of his demolished fish into the fire, he shrugged.  "Not much," he confessed, but at least, he sounded a little less put-upon, so that was something.  "There wasn't much time for playing."

"You had to start training really early, didn't you?" she asked quietly.

"I guess.  Never really thought of it that way.  It's just how it was.  I'm not complaining."

"No, you didn't sound like you were," she agreed.  "It's a lot of responsibility, being tai-youkai."

He reached for the last fish, pausing just long enough to offer it to her.  She waved it away, and he bit into it.  "Yes, well, it's much easier now than it used to be.  Becoming tai-youkai at twenty . . . There were a number of people who didn't agree with my right to inherit my father's position."

She frowned as the gravity of his statement sank in.  "You mean, they challenged you?"

He nodded, scowling into the gamboling flames of the fire.  "Not as frequently these days, but back then . . ."

She flinched.  She wanted to ask him how often that had happened, wished that she knew him well enough to try to make him feel better about it, which was kind of a silly notion, given that it was all in the past.  In the end, however, she sighed, figured that maybe a slight change in topic was the best course of action.  "You said your brother's a lot younger than you?  How old was he when your parents . . .?"

For a long moment, she didn't think he was going to answer.  Taking his time as he stripped the rest of the meat off the bones, he tossed the carcass into the fire and dusted his hands together before digging a bottle of water out of his bag.  "He was two," he replied in almost a monotone.  "Two years, two months, and a few days old, to be exact . . ."

"And you've cared for him since then . . ."

Fai nodded.  "He had a nanny, of course, but he didn't like her.  He always wanted to be with me, so I let her go.  The doctor said that he thought it was due to the trauma of our parents' deaths—well, Mother's, anyway.  My father wasn't very hands-on, I guess you could say."

Her frown deepened.  "He didn't . . . didn't love you?"

Shaking his head, Fai drained half of his water before taking his time, replacing the cap once more.  "I wouldn't say that," he ventured.  "I mean, looking back, I know he cared.  He just . . ." Offering a little shrug, he seemed to be deep in thought for several moments before he sighed, gave a little shrug.  "A tai-youkai cannot afford to lean on anyone.  There isn't anyone else to do so.  I was in college when Yerik was born, so I don't know how he was with him, really, but . . . but he never wanted me to be coddled.  Mother would hug me, of course, hold me on her lap, but Father . . . He discouraged such things, but it wasn't because he didn't care.  He wanted me to learn to depend upon myself; that's all.  I mean, he was strict, but he was also the first one to tell me when I'd done well, too."

"Is that how your brother was raised?" she asked.

He seemed surprised by her question, and he shook his head.  "Not really.  Given what happened, it wasn't really possible.  Yerik . . . I don't know what he does or doesn't remember, and he's never said, but he had nightmares for a long time, and . . . and I couldn't leave him alone—not at that age.  That would have been . . . cruel . . . Once he reached a certain age, though, he didn't really need me like that anymore."

That she supposed she could understand.  Maybe her family was different in that respect, but Sesshoumaru tended to be a little like that—maybe not to the extent as Fai's father was.  Even so, she didn't doubt for a moment that there were moments that he'd stood back, allowed Toga to deal with things on his own to teach him to rely upon himself, too . . .

He let out a deep breath, his expression almost disgusted—almost.  "That's more than I think I've ever told anyone," he admitted.  "I have no idea why I told you any of it . . ."

She smiled a little sadly.  "It's lonely, isn't it?  Being tai-youkai . . ."

The look he shot her was surprised, almost taken aback, and she blinked as a hint of a blush rose in his cheeks, though, in the wan light of the fire, she couldn't help but wonder if she weren't seeing things, too.  "Yeah, it . . . It is . . ."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** — — —
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** lianned88 ——— Nate Grey
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _He should really tell InuYasha-oji-chan what he said_ …


	7. 006: Primitive

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_6_** ~~  
~ ** _Primitive_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

He wasn't sure, what woke him.  He didn't know if it was a sound or a feeling, if it was a thought or a dream . . .

It wasn't as much a cognizant decision as it was the culmination of a natural instinct, maybe . . . or maybe . . .

Yawning wide, he turned in an unintentional gravitation toward the source of warmth that huddled beside him in the filmy and hazy light of dawn.  Somehow, the coarse, military-grade blankets did little to stave off the chill that permeated from the ground on which they rested, and he deliberately tried to ignore the intrusion of conscious thought as he slipped his arms around the immediate source of warmth, drawing her against him as the heat of her body offered him a semblance of peace, of comfort.

It reminded him of . . .

Well, he didn't know what, exactly, but if he woke up entirely, he probably could place it.  Too bad that the idea of doing that wasn't at all inviting.

' _Damned if she isn't nice . . ._ ' his youkai-voice mumbled sleepily.

' _Mmmm . . ._ '

' _Warm and soft and . . ._ '

' _Shh . . ._ '

' _And . . . nice . . ._ '

As if in response to his muddled thoughts, she seemed to scoot in a little closer, her sigh, soft, almost more of a breath than a real sound.  He could feel it in her, though: the subtle relaxing of her body, as though she had been tensed against the chill air—an almost liquid sense of lethargy that reached out from her to him as he balanced on the very edge between awake and asleep.

' _We . . . could go back . . . to sleep . . ._ '

That wasn't a bad idea; not at all.

There was something entirely . . . familiar about her, wasn't there?  Something that he didn't quite understand, and yet, it was there, nonetheless.  Even in the cloudy and murky haze of his mind, he recognized it, even if it wasn't on a wholly coherent sort of level.  Her youki allowed itself to blend with his in a strangely heady sort of symbiosis.

Breathing out a half-sigh, half-moan, she rolled over onto her back, pushing herself up on her elbows as she blinked slowly, as though she were having trouble, clearing her mind.  "G'morn'ng," she mumbled, eyes drifting closed even though she was leaning up.

He grunted, and if she noticed the arms he drew back away from her, she didn't comment—and neither did he.  "Morning," he muttered, rolling away from her, dragging the blanket up over his shoulder, almost over his head.

She yawned loudly, and he could tell from the sound of it that she was stretching, too.  "I'm starving," she finally said, pushing herself up, hunching forward to wrap her arms around her raised knees.  "I guess I might still have one of those pirozhki left . . ."

He was torn.  On the one hand, he was hungry, too.  On the other?  It was damn chilly outside the blanket, and his bag was on the other side of the small shelter.

"I could go catch a few more fish, but we should probably get moving soon," she went on slowly, thoughtfully.

"The pirozhki is fine," he grumbled, tossing aside the blanket and pushing her aside so that he could lean over to snag his backpack.

' _Oh, now, calm down . . . She was just offering to catch a few fish.  It's not her fault that you couldn't do it, even if your life depended upon it._ '

' _Shut up._ '

She sighed and crawled out of the shelter to stir up the still smoldering embers of the fire to build it back up again.  Fai stifled a sigh of his own as he ate the priozhki in a few bites and busied himself with folding up the blankets and disassembling the shelter.

' _I think you offended her,_ ' his youkai pointed out after a few minutes of judicious silence.

' _I didn't.  She doesn't have enough sense to be offended about anything._ '

' _Well, that wasn't nice, Fai.  Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, did you?_ '

' _Absolutely not.  Dunno what you're talking about, anyway._ '

' _Unless you're still all bent out of shape over the whole hunting situation.  Just because she was able to catch fish without a line doesn't mean—_ '

' _I’m not bent out of shape over anything.  Whoever heard of fishing without line? No one—other than her oji-chan, anyway . . ._ '

' _You sound like you are . . . And you were last night when you came back to camp, empty-handed, only to find her already back with five stinking fish, cleaned and cooking.  Why was that, anyway?  I mean, you should have been glad—thankful, even—considering you couldn't manage to catch a damn thing . . ._ '

Fai uttered a terse grunt, but didn't bother to respond to that.

It was natural, wasn't it?  She deliberately took a stab at his ego, and who wouldn't be offended by that?

' _Except she wasn't doing any such thing, you realize,_ ' his youkai went on thoughtfully.

' _Why are you taking her side?_ '

His youkai snorted.  ' _Because you're being kind of a jerk for no good reason.  Okay, so the two of you didn't exactly get off to the best start, but you know, she's not nearly as bad as you'd like to think she is.  In fact, she's kind of . . . compelling, don't you think?_ '

' _Compelling?  Compelling, how?_ ' he scoffed.

' _You know, if you can't figure it out, then I don't know what to tell you._ '

"I made some tea . . ."

Blinking away the lingering reverie, Fai finished belting the rolled up tarp and blanket and dropped his backpack on the ground.  Letting out a deep breath, he accepted the tin mug she offered him.  His fingertips brushed over hers, and his eyes flashed up to meet her gaze, just in time to see the slight pinking in her cheeks, the way her nostrils flared just a little.  Hair whipping around in the breeze, the flashes of silver that shone in the long strands, the steely gray of her gaze as a strange sort of warmth lit the depths of her eyes . . .

He had no idea just how long a time passed as he stared at her, as he struggled to understand on some level, just what it was that he felt.  Her deep pink, almost rosy, lips parted slightly, the warmth of her breath brushing over him in the gentlest ripple, setting off a chain reaction that shot through him in an instant—something the likes of which he'd never felt before.  He didn't know what it meant, didn't comprehend the surge of feelings that had lain dormant in him up till now . . .

The undercurrent that passed from him to her and back again was electric, almost like a jolt to his system, and he felt the heat suffusing his skin as the strangest urge to quickly look away shot through him.

It was the oddest feeling, the most uncanny sensation—almost like the ground had been yanked out from under him, and, while he didn't fully understand it, something about it almost frightened him . . .

Almost.

 

* * *

 

 

Peering around the small convenience store—the fourth one he'd stopped by in the last few hours—Yerik paused for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the weaker and duller light.

It was slow-going.  Basically traveling in a wide arc as he moved a little farther away from the estate, searching for any trace of Fai in any shop or store or even restaurant that he came across, he had to admit that the frustration was mounting at a rapid pace.  He'd always been fairly good at controlling his impatience.  Good thing, considering his resolve was being sorely tested this time . . .

' _Relax a little . . . We'll find him.  Besides, there's a reason that Fai's tai-youkai.  You know better than anyone that he's fully capable of defending himself.  Wherever he is, you know he's fine.  He'll_ be _fine.  Don't panic._ '

' _I'm not panicking.  I don't panic.  I just want to find him sooner rather than later._ '

' _You will.  Show him your skills, Yerik.  Maybe he'll listen a little better to you if you do._ '

Scowling at the logical sound of his youkai's assertions, Yerik strode over to the counter, sizing up the scrawny man behind the counter.  Tall, lanky, hidden in the nondescript folds of the smudged and dingy blue denim shirt he wore, his dark golden hair a little dull and limp, the young man shot Yerik a cursory sort of glance out of his owlish eyes.

"Have you seen this man in the last couple days?" Yerik asked without preamble as he handed the kid his cell phone—the picture of Fai that he'd already pulled up.

The kid took the phone and scowled at the image thoughtfully.  "No, I . . . This is the first time I've worked this week.  Is he a friend of yours . . .?"

"You could say that," Yerik replied.  "Is there anyone else who had been here?"

"Oh, yeah," he replied.  Shuffling out from behind the counter, the young man glanced at him before heading down an aisle toward the back of the store.  Yerik followed.

"This man . . . Have you seen him?" the kid asked, handing the phone to a girl who was busy, stocking shelves.

The girl straightened up, shot Yerik a cursory glance, as she turned her attention to the picture on the cell phone.  "Oh . . . He was here . . . um . . . a couple days ago?  With a woman . . . They were in a white van.  It sounded terrible—the van, I mean."

"And did you see what direction they headed off in?" Yerik asked, taking back his phone and stowing it into the deep pocket of his thick leather coat.

She frowned, tucking a long strand of light brown hair behind her ear.  "She asked how far it was to Barsk."

"I see.  Thank you," Yerik said, turning on his heel and striding toward the door.  Barsk . . .

It was the best lead he'd had so far, and at least he knew the direction they were headed, even if he had no idea just where they might be going.  Barsk was a small town not too far from where he was currently, but if that was their destination, why?

' _A white van . . . and a woman . . .?  Just what is Fai up to?_ ' his youkai mused as he slipped back into his car and punched the ignition button.

His scowl darkened as he pulled onto the street, heading out of town in the direction of Barsk.  In all the time that he'd known Fai, he hadn't ever been anything less than utterly pragmatic, entirely too disciplined to just take off for any old reason and without saying anything, even if he'd just mentioned it to Vasili.

No, something about the whole thing just wasn't right.

' _And you're sure you're not just overreacting and trying to take a minute to prove your point to your oh-so-esteemed brother?_ '

Snorting indelicately at the blatant barb of his youkai-voice's words, Yerik dragged a hand through his collar-length golden hair.  ' _Of course not!  And even so, he was wrong, and this just proves it.  He can't do everything on his own, no matter what he thinks.  There are too many people who depend upon him . . ._ '

' _Including you._ '

He grunted, but didn't really answer that.  There wasn't much to say about it, anyway.

The truth of it was that he didn't rightfully know exactly when he'd noticed it all.  He guessed he knew well enough, even early on, just how stressful the weight of everything was on Fai.  He never complained, of course.  He never gave voice to it, and yet, it was always there, too: the strain around his eyes, the tightness in his expression, the pensive looks on his face that Yerik had seen too many times to count over the years, even though that look always disappeared the minute that Fai realized that Yerik was near . . . He didn't know if Fai was trying to hide it from him, but he had a feeling that it was simply that Fai didn't want Yerik to worry about anything, including him . . .

He supposed that it was kind of a strange situation.  Yerik didn't actually remember their parents.  Whether his mind had blocked the memories or if he was simply too young to properly form them, to start with, he didn't know.  From the earliest times that he could recall, Fai had been both his father and his mother, all wrapped in the guise of a brother, and, even though it had to have been exhausting, entirely mentally overwhelming, Fai never, ever complained, either.  No, it was quite the opposite, actually.  Always ready with an encouraging nod, a faint smile, a word or even a gentle ruffling of his hair, Fai had been the one constant in his life . . .

And maybe that was the reason why, as Yerik had grown older, that he'd started to wonder just what he could do to lighten his brother's load.  It bothered him, didn't it?  For every single fond memory that Yerik held dear, he knew that so many of them were created by his brother, whether directly or indirectly.  As busy as he always was, as much stress and strain as he'd been under, Fai still went out of his way to ensure that Yerik's childhood was as close to normal as it could have possibly been.  From the times that he'd dropped everything to spend a few hours—maybe a full afternoon—playing with him in the perfect gardens of the estate, or the times that he'd put aside his work in order to give Yerik advice or just to listen to a recap of his day at school—later, boarding school—and the daily phone calls that Fai never missed, just to make sure that everything was all right . . .

And it wasn't like he'd ever tried to make Yerik feel as though he were interrupting or that he didn't have time, and that was something, too.

It was idyllic, really.

And then . . .

Yerik let out a deep sigh, allowing the spring breeze that filtered through the cracked window to ruffle his hair.  In hindsight, he supposed that it was inevitable.  It really wasn't until the first year at boarding school in Australia that he'd started to hear things—whispers.

He hadn't known that his brother had been challenged so much, so frequently, particularly early on in his tenure as tai-youkai.  So many people were unhappy to have such a young man in the office.  It was nothing against Fai, they'd said.  It was just the belief that someone so untried had no right to call themselves tai-youkai, regardless of his upbringing.

The home that he was raised in had been purposefully removed from the rest of the world, like a haven that Fai had created just for Yerik, worlds away from the strife and tension that made up life outside of the walls of the grand estate.  Yerik hadn't realized that the vast majority of his homeland was made up of poor and poorer, hadn't realized just how much of a charmed existence he actually lived.  Sure, he had been taught how to fight, how to protect himself, how to do all those things that Fai also knew.  But Fai had also opted instead to bring in private tutors for the majority of Yerik's early schooling, and those tutors hadn't ever done anything to really shed light on the rest of the world, either.  Yerik figured that was how Fai had wanted it, and, while Yerik could and did appreciate it, he couldn't help but to feel like he owed his brother so much, particularly as he'd grown older, as the mantle of innocence that Fai had so carefully wrapped him in slowly fell away.

Maybe that was where the idea had come from.  The first couple years, his roommate was the son of a fairly well-known hunter in Australia, and he didn't know when, exactly, the thought had occurred to him, but the more he'd considered things, the more he'd thought things over, the more convinced he'd become.  As far as he knew, Fai didn't have or didn't speak of hunters that he employed.  If he did have some, they weren't close by, and Yerik had realized that on some of those nights when Fai had slipped out of the castle without any real fanfare that he was likely doing the job himself, and for some reason, the idea of his great and noble brother, hunting down the very dregs of youkai society bothered him.

He could do it, couldn't he?  That was what he wanted.  He could do it, was trained for it, even if that wasn't what Fai's intention ever was.  What he hadn't expected was for his brother to be so damn set against the very idea.

Oh, but he was . . .

" _Absolutely not.  I forbid it_."

 _Following Fai into the study, Yerik caught the door before his brother could slam it in his face and hurried in after him.  "It's a good plan, Fai," he insisted.  "You're tai-youkai.  You shouldn't be out there, hunting down rogue youkai!_ "

" _And you should?" Fai challenged with a shake of his head.  "I said no_."

" _You can't forbid me from doing something," Yerik pointed out.  "I'm eighteen, and_ —"

" _Eighteen isn't nearly old enough to think you want to be a—Do you know what hunters do?  They kill people.  Dead.  And you think you could do that?_ "

" _I could," Yerik said.  "I know what it means.  I'm fully aware.  I can do this.  More importantly, I_ want _to do it!_ "

 _Fai shot his brother a quelling look, narrowing his eyes.  "You_ want _to do it?  You_ want _to hunt people down?  To kill them?  To have their blood_ — _their_ family's _blood—on your hands?  No, Yerik!_   I won't have it!"

 _To his credit, Yerik didn't even flinch as Fai's fist slammed down on the wide desktop to punctuate each word.  Instead, he held up his hands in a placating sort of gesture that ultimately didn't work.  "Fai, you know, I did fine when I went out with Jesse's father on that hunt for the kangaroo-youkai, and_ —"

" _You did . . ._ what?" _Fai bellowed, his usually temperate tone all but forgotten as he exploded in an uncharacteristic rage_.

 _Yerik rolled his eyes.  "During semester break," he explained.  "Brad Gillis offered to let me tag along on a hunt to get some experience.  He said I did very well_ —"

" _The hell you say!" Fai growled, reaching for the phone_.

" _What are you doing?_ "

 _Fai grunted.  "What does it look like?  I'm calling that damned Covington, and I'm going to demand that hunter's head on a platter!  Taking you out there when you have no experience, no nothing but a stupid, ridiculous idea in your head!  Of all the incompetent_ —"

 _Reaching across the desk, Yerik grasped his brother's hand to stop him from dialing the phone.  "Fai!  No!  As you can see, everything's fine, and I thought it'd be good to see if it was something I could do before I approached you about it.  I did well, and I know I can do the job, so_ —"

 _Leaning back, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly, Fai drew himself up to his full height.  Yerik gritted his teeth against the abrasive quality of his brother's youki as it spiked around him.  "No, Yerik. For starters, you're studying business management.  You're going to take over the distilleries because I don't have the time to do it.  Hunting?  It's too dangerous, and I'll be damned if I'll sit back and allow you to go out there and risk your life for no good reason.  Things like this would change you—harden you.  I promised Father that I would watch over you, not send you out there, to put your life in danger.   End of discussion._ "

Yerik sighed as the memory faded, as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.  He'd let the discussion drop after that—for now, anyway.  Sure, he could understand Fai's feelings, and yes, he had known that his brother wasn't going to be very supportive, at least, at first, about what Yerik wanted to do.  Even so, he'd be lying if he didn't admit that the longer he thought about it, the more he felt that it was something he was compelled to do, as if every part of his life had led him to this decision.  It wasn't one he'd made lightly.  It was something that he felt down to his very bones.

More than that, he wanted— _needed_ —to do it.  Keeping Fai safe, paying him back for a lifetime of dedication and devotion in the only way he could?  Wasn't that the least he could do . . .?

 

* * *

 

 

Trudging along the side of the river that would ultimately lead to the orphanage, Saori frowned as she stared at the ground under her feet.

They'd spent the majority of the day, traveling along in silence, and even though she'd started to speak a thousand times, the words got stuck, and the quiet had lingered.

She didn't understand it.

There was no better way to say it.  That curious moment when she'd handed Fai a cup of tea, and . . .

And even just the memory of it was enough to set off the strangest sort of sensation deep in her belly—a curious kind of churning that wasn't at all unpleasant—and yet, it was entirely frightening, just the same.  The closest thing she could liken it to was that giddy kind of flutter that always accompanied an unexpected drop, kind of like when she'd gone to a few amusement parks over the years.  Whenever the roller coasters plunged—that exhilarating, but almost scary feeling . . . It was a lot like that, but entirely different, too . . .

' _It's because there's something about him,_ ' her youkai-voice remarked.  ' _He's fascinating, don't you think?_ '

Frowning at the rather off-the-cuff remark, she bit her lip, willed her cheeks not to pink as she carefully adjusted the straps of her knapsack and kept walking.  ' _Well, he's . . . He's nice enough—when he's not irritated about something,_ ' she ventured slowly, almost philosophically.  ' _And he's very handsome—again, when he's not scowling . . ._ '

Her youkai heaved a longsuffering sigh.  ' _This isn't about Kakashi-kun, is it?  Because he doesn't actually know you exist, and even if he did, he's named after a manga character . . . which is entirely lame, if you ask me . . ._ '

She made a face.  ' _He has no control over what his parents named him, and even if he did, he's cool enough to pull it off . . ._ '

' _And like I just said, he doesn't know you exist, remember?_ '

Letting out a deep breath, Saori shook her head.  ' _It's not like I'd have a chance with a guy like him, anyway, and even then, I haven't seen him since we finished school.  Anyway, what does this have to do with that?_ '

Her youkai snorted indelicately. ' _Well, ask yourself this: in the length of time since you first laid eyes on that boy, have you ever felt like that when you've thought about him?_ '

' _Well . . . no . . ._ '

' _So . . . Doesn't that mean something to you?_ '

' _How would I know?  I don't even know what it was I felt . . ._ '

"All right," Fai said loudly, setting down his knapsack with a heavy thump.  "This looks like as good a place as any to make camp."

For some reason, she had trouble, making herself turn around to look at him.  She wasn't entirely sure why, but she did understand that it had everything to do with that moment earlier—the brush of fingers, the electricity that seemed to pass between them . . .

"If you'll gather wood for a fire, I'll set up a shelter, and then you can show me how to fish with my hands," he went on.

She thought she nodded, maybe.  She wasn't entirely certain.  But she shrugged off her knapsack and set it aside before wandering away to gather wood.  Glancing back over her shoulder, she spotted him easily enough as he hunted around for branches that would suit his task.  Broad shoulders that were concealed but not hidden under the smudged and rumpled light blue shirt that was pristine, crisply pressed, just a few days ago on that fateful morning.  The sunshine that filtered through the tangle of leaves and branches so high overhead caught on the tips of his chestnut hair, brightening his locks, adding a certain sheen to him, almost an unearthly glow.  He was scowling again, but this time, it was one of concentration, and that was all right, she figured.  ' _He . . . He really is an incredibly handsome man,_ ' she thought to herself.  For some reason, that conclusion set off another round of the curious dropping in her stomach—not quite as severe as it had been that morning—but enough that she flinched and shifted her stance, wrapping an arm over her belly as she leaned her head to the side and continued to stare at the man in question.

And she continued to watch him as he erected the shelter, as he lashed the branches he found together, stretched the tarp carefully over the skeleton and staked it down with a few well-placed blows with a heavy rock.  Somewhere in the back of her mind, it occurred to her that she really should get moving on her own task, but something about the way he moved demanded her attention, and the notion of gathering firewood seemed so vague, so far away . . . There was a poetic sort of feel in his every movement, a commanding sort of grace that she'd only actually seen in the men of her family before now.

There was simply something about him that spoke to her in quiet whispers, in inane language that she really didn't understand, but somehow, that was all right, too, wasn't it?  She had a feeling that she would one day, and even though the thought of spending more time with him wasn't a sure thing, somehow, deep down, she had a feeling that maybe . . .

Pausing in his tasks long enough to raise his hands above his head, he slowly stretched, first to one side, then to the other, before slowly working his shoulders, eyes closing as he let his head fall back, as he rolled it from side to side . . .

A distinctive trill raced up her spine, an entirely pleasant sort of anticipation surging through her as she stared, speechless, enthralled . . .

' _If he catches you, staring at him, he might well have a fit._ '

She nodded slowly since there was a very good chance that her youkai-voice was entirely correct.  With a very long sigh, she shook her head, forced herself to look away, to start gathering the firewood for the night.

No, she really didn't know just why she felt the way she did.  She had no idea where the feelings had come from, and she didn't know what, exactly, to do about them, either.  There was only one thing that really did occur to her, and that thought was enough to bring the barest hint of a smile to her lips.

Fai Demyanov . . .

He was absolutely fascinating.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Silent Reader ——— Goldeninugoddess
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _What … was that_ …?


	8. 007: Middle Ground

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_7_** ~~  
~ ** _Middle Ground_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Saori wade out into the river, Fai scowled thoughtfully.  Sure, he knew that she'd caught fish last night with no real problem at all.  Even so, a part of him still believed that she had to have some fishing line hidden somewhere.  It just seemed so outrageous, the idea of just standing there and being able to catch fish with one's bare hands . . . And if it were possible, he really had to wonder about this 'oji-chan' of hers.  Who would have even thought of such a thing, in the first place?

' _You know, about that . . . Have you noticed just how at home she seems to be out here?  She's not panicking or worried that we might be lost.  It's like she knows . . . Just how much time has she spent outdoors?_ '

That was a good question, he figured.  It was kind of interesting, considering he'd never actually met a woman who was so comfortable away from the conveniences of home.  Still . . .

"Did you spend a lot of time, camping and stuff when you were younger?" he asked a little grudgingly.

She stopped and turned to look back at him, the light bouncing off the water, reflecting in her eyes, adding a soft sort of glow as she pondered his question.  "Oh . . . I guess so," she admitted.  "Oji-chan owns a forest, and I loved being out there . . . It was peaceful, you know?  And there was no one else out there to judge me or that made me feel like I had to measure up to them . . ." Suddenly, she laughed, but she seemed almost embarrassed by it as she lifted a hand to hover over her lips.  "I really wasn't very good at things like makeup or flirting with boys . . . I mean, I tried, but I always felt so . . . so dumb in comparison.  I'm not a tomboy, per se, but . . . But I'd like to think I can hold my own out here . . ."

' _Better than you can, Fai._ '

'. . . _Shut up._ '

"Anyway," she went on, turning back, throwing her arms out to the sides as she waded a little deeper into the water, "oji-chan thought it was important for all of us to learn basic survival skills along with the rest of our training.  I did spend a lot of time during breaks in school, though, camping out with them, without them . . . It's . . . peaceful . . ."

Lifting his gaze, taking in the untouched beauty of the land, of the water, Fai nodded slowly to himself.  Yes, he supposed he could understand what she was saying, even if he hadn't really stopped to consider it for himself before.  "And that's why you're so good at hand fishing?"

"I guess so . . ."

And that made perfect sense, too.

"So, you find a good spot—near rocks and stuff are usually good because the current slows down a bit.  Then you just stand still—perfectly still.  Don't move at all.  Keep your hands in the water because if you have them out of the water and try to grab the fish that come up, they'll get away every time.  Then you just wait.  Just . . . like . . . this!" she said, standing up straight with a rather fat Siberian salmon—not a huge one, by any stretch of the imagination, but a very respectable catch.  It wasn't fully grown, looked like it might be around ten pounds, but most certainly nothing to scoff at, either.  She took a sharpened stick and jammed it through the fish, embedding it in the water to hold until they were done fishing.

Not to be outdone by the young Japanese woman, Fai unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside as he kicked off his shoes, then caught the back of his socks between his big toe and the others to tug them off of his feet, and rolled up his pants before striding into the very cold water to about knee-deep and hunkering down like she'd done, hands resting in the water.

She giggled when his first attempt to snag a fish failed.  He managed to grab it, but it squirmed right out of his hands.

So, there was a little more to it than she'd said, obviously, and he frowned as he concentrated, willing himself to calm, to remain perfectly still.  A fish swam in close.  It wasn't quite as big as the one that she'd caught, but it was decent sized, and he waited, thinking that maybe he'd simply moved too fast on the last one.  This one started to nibble at his toes, and he gritted his teeth to keep from wiggling the appendages.  Then he grabbed.

He managed to catch this one, but he grasped it too tightly, and he grimaced when the body of the poor thing crunched in his hands.

"Not bad," she said, grabbing her stake and wading over to get a look at his fish.  "Oh . . . That's . . . unfortunate," she said, peering over his arm at the fish still held in his hands.  He heaved a sigh and chucked it out toward the middle of the river where the other marine life could make use of the poor creature.  "I guess it's something that you learn by trial and error—how to grasp them without . . . without . . ."

"—Without mangling them.  Right," he grumbled, unable to staunch the blush that surfaced in his cheeks.  "I'll get one."

He could feel the fact that she wanted to say something, but she didn't, and he ignored it as he leaned over again, letting his hands dangle in the water to wait.

"When oji-chan taught me to fish, I was a child," she finally said.  "I remember one night, we were camping, and he told me that I'd have to catch my own dinner, and it took me awhile.  I kept losing them or they'd dart away just before I could get them.  I . . . I think I was ready to cry, I was so frustrated."  Suddenly, she laughed, but again, it seemed almost embarrassed, as though she hated to admit whatever was coming next, and she sighed.  "I was even . . . even mad at him because he could have easily caught my fish for me, but . . . Oji-chan told me to calm down; that they could feel my emotions.  And then, I caught my first fish . . ."

He didn't respond to that.  Instead, he tried to clear his mind, to will away the irritation that he hadn't been able to accomplish what should have been easy enough.  Another fish swam closer.  He couldn't be sure, but he thought that it might well be bigger than the one that she'd caught.  It didn't matter, really.  Even so, he grabbed the fish, grasped it in his hands, brought it up out of the water as it flailed and fought against him.  With a bark of incredulous laughter, he tightened his grip just enough to keep the creature from slithering out of his hands.

"Oh, wow!  That's a nice one!" she exclaimed quietly.  "Much better than the tiny ones I caught last night!"

Bolstered by the very real appreciation evident in her expression, he smiled, just a little.  "There was nothing wrong with those last night."

She laughed.  "No, there wasn't . . . but these?  It's good because I'm hungrier tonight!"

"I . . . I'll cook dinner," he offered, a little grudgingly, almost a little shyly.

She seemed surprised by his offer, but she nodded.  "You cook?"

"Some," he replied, reaching for her stake.  "It's a little rough out here, but I think I can do something . . ."

Her smile widened as she waded back to the shore with him.  "Well, if you're going to cook them, then I'll clean them," she said.

He let her take the fish.  The one on the stake was fine, but the other was still rather angry at having been caught, and she laughed as she smashed it against her chest to keep it from wiggling loose.

Blinking as he watched her, as she sank down in a grassy patch away from the edge of the water, he frowned.  Hair mussed, clothing smudged and faded, she pushed her sleeves up her arms to her elbows before grasping the still-wiggling fish and started to clean it.  There was no hesitation, no squeamish girliness: just an efficacy in movement as she swiftly and deftly cleaned the fish.

What was it about her? he wondered.  He didn't know that much about her, aside from what she'd told him, and yet, something about her made him feel like he knew her so much better than that, almost like he'd known her . . . forever . . . which was entirely stupid.  Someone like him . . . Well, he tended to be too pragmatic to think in those kinds of fanciful terms.

Even so . . .

Snatching up his shirt with a grimace—it stank horribly—he opted instead to wade back into the water, to try scrubbing out the garment with a handful of sandy dirt and small pebbles that were plentiful in the riverbed.  His pants could use a good washing, as well, but that wasn't actually something that was feasible, given that he had no other clothing to change into.

' _Give it up, Fai.  You think she's as fascinating as I do._ '

Grunting unintelligibly at his youkai-voice's words, Fai scrubbed a little harder at his shirt.

' _Her hair . . . It's pretty amazing, don't you think?  I mean, she's just . . . She's different from the women you've met.  She's not fussy or prissy or so set on how she looks . . . Do you remember when Gar Metwin brought his daughters for you to meet?  Could you imagine any of those girls out here?  Can you imagine if they were forced to trek through the forest?  To camp out?  Or to fish?  You know, if that were the case, we'd be starving by now . . ._ '

Making a face since he did, indeed, remember that, he scowled.  ' _You don't really have to remind me of that,_ ' he grumbled since the incident was still vivid enough in his mind.  Considering the three daughters were pretty well falling all over themselves in their efforts to curry his favor, leaving him feeling uncomfortable in the extreme, yes, he remembered it a little too well, and the idea of any of those girls, out here?  He grimaced.

It seemed to him that people were of one of two mindsets early on: either they wanted to challenge him to remove him from his office or they were overly excited by the idea that he was young and very eligible.

At least things had calmed down on both of those fronts more recently.  When he'd first stepped into the role of tai-youkai, both things had been common enough occurrences, to the point that, back then, he rather dreaded appointments and correspondence in general.  It wasn't that bad these days.  Most of the time, he was occupied in the things that were supposed to come part and parcel with his title, and those things, he was adept in dealing with.  It was a relief.  He hadn't been challenged in well over a year, and the women?  Well, he tried to discourage that as often as possible, but there were those who tried, anyway.  The fathers, however, seemed to be all right with the idea that there was just nothing at all there—no spark, no fascination—and they let it drop after the initial meetings, thankfully.

' _Fai . . ._ '

' _What?_ '

' _I think . . . I think I feel that spark . . ._ '

Peering up without raising his head, Fai frowned as he watched the woman on the riverbank as she carefully cleaned the fish.  Hair catching the early evening sunlight that caught in the long locks, shining gently, lending her a bluish hint, she quickly tipped her head to the side, using her shoulder to push her hair back out of her face.  His frown deepened.  It wasn't black, that hair—almost, but not quite.  No, it was more of a dark, deep, glossy gray, kissed with those bluish highlights, incredibly long, ridiculously soft looking, perfectly paired with those silvery eyes, too.  Along with paleness of her skin, it gave her a dramatic kind of presence, and when she smiled, those same eyes of hers seemed to light up, sparkling like diamonds—like precious gems . . .

As if she sensed his blatant perusal, she glanced up at him, breaking into that smile that illuminated her eyes, that carved the most endearing dimples in both of her cheeks, as her skin took on a hint of pink, as her dusty rose lips parted.

Dropping his gaze almost instantly, his brows drawing together in a consternated frown as a certain warmth infiltrated his own cheeks, he concentrated instead on rinsing out his shirt.  Something about her completely flustered him, as much as he was loathe to admit it.  It was a rather unsettling sensation for someone who was used to being in charge, who tended to thrive upon it.

' _I'd say it's a little novel, don't you think?  Being completely flummoxed by that slip of a girl?_ '

' _No, I don't,_ ' he countered dryly, ' _and I'm not . . ._ '

' _Uh huh . . ._ '

' _I'm not._ '

' _Yep, keep telling yourself that, Fai, but you know, it's all right to be interested in a woman.  It's kind of surprising that you weren't already at least mildly interested in_ someone _. . ._ '

' _I've been . . . interested . . ._ '

His youkai-voice snorted.  ' _You've been  horny; that's what you've been, and once you got that out of your system, the interest waned just as quickly._ '

He grunted, but he didn't argue it.  After all, what was the point when his youkai-voice was dead-on the mark.  Not often, but a few times, he'd had moments when he'd given in to lust, but it was always a fleeting emotion, gone about as soon as it had been quelled.  There was never any interest in any kind of long-term attachments, and that was fine with him, too . . . but . . .

That was always simply about the carnal act—just sex and nothing more.  The first time had been fairly horrifying.  He'd gone a weekend holiday with his roommate in boarding school when he was sixteen.  Back then, he was attending a very prestigious school in Italy, and he'd met a very cute girl from the nearby girls' academy.  He hadn't realized back then that she knew very well just who he was, and after they'd done the deed, she'd proceeded to tell all of her friends that she would be his mate, which was simply not the case.  The debacle that had unfolded after that was more than enough to quell his enthusiasm until he'd moved on to the University of Oxford in England.  While there, he had met and become friendly with a very sweet finch-youkai named Elizabeth, and they had slept together whenever the mood hit, but it wasn't like they were anything other than friends with certain benefits, and they were both quite all right with that.  They were still friendly now, though it had devolved more to texts and the occasional phone call, usually around a holiday or birthday . . .

And there were a couple others, but nothing at all that was noteworthy or anything special, and, he was somewhat ashamed to admit, there were even a few women that he didn't even know their names, but then, they probably didn't know his, either, and he supposed that it was all right with him, too . . .

Fai snorted.  Loudly.  ' _Shut up._ '

His youkai laughed.  Loudly.  ' _Fine . . ._ '

 

* * *

 

 

"What are you doing?"

Glancing up from the makeshift bag she'd fashioned out of an old, ratty sweatshirt, Saori bit her lip as she let her gaze fall back down again, her thin shoulders rising and falling in a soundless sigh.  "I . . . I was considering taking a bath, but . . . But I really can't shove the children's precious things into this shirt . . ." she remarked, scowling down at her clothes.

Fai nodded slowly.  Given that the sweatshirt she was wearing was pretty dirty and a bit on the smelly side, to boot, he kind of figured that she was more concerned with soiling the items than she was in cleaning herself up.  "So, wash the one you're wearing," he remarked casually, turning his attention back to his task of prepping the fish filets for cooking.

"I only have this other sweatshirt," she pointed out rather primly.

"You came all the way to my home, and you only brought along a single change of clothing?"

He had a feeling that she was glowering at him, but he didn't turn to verify it.  "Of course, I brought other clothes," she scoffed.  "I didn't have room to pack more in this, not when I had to bring the children's things back, too.  Even if I managed to make it back to where I left the van, do you honestly think it'll still be there?  Because I don't."

He frowned.  She had a point.  Considering the area where the van had broken down was fairly poor, there was every chance that she was entirely right.  If anyone happened across it and realized that it was abandoned, they'd just tear it down and load it up for scrap—or they'd remove any decent part of it and sell it off, bit by bit, and anything left inside it?  Well, that would be fair game, too, as far as they were concerned.  "All right," he relented.  "But you could just wash their things when you got back to the orphanage—and you do kind of stink—and when I say, 'kind of', I'm being kind because I actually mean that you smell worse than I did before I washed my shirt."

She uttered a terse little 'hrumph'.  "I cannot wash a drawing pad," she pointed out haughtily, opting to ignore his commentary on the way she smelled.

He sighed.  "So, take your bath, wash your foul sweatshirt, wear the clean one until the other one dries overnight, and then you can pack everything back into the un-smelly one in the morning."

She blinked, sitting up a little straighter as she considered his suggestion.  "Oh, that's not a bad idea," she allowed, sounding almost bemused.  "It's nice to know that you're more than just a pretty face, Fai-sama."

For some reason, her candid and teasing statement still made him blush.  Luckily, though, he was faced away from her, so she didn't see it, and he snorted.  "The tai-youkai does not like to be teased," he grumbled.

She laughed softly.  He heard her rummaging around, but didn't turn to see what she was doing, either, but a few minutes later, she stood up.  "I'm going to go see about getting cleaned up," she told him.  "Can you keep an eye on the children's things?  I just don't want anything to happen to them . . ."

"And what's going to happen to them out here?"

She paused.  "A bear could come along and decide that the teddy bear's his kin," she offered.

He grunted.

"I'll be back as soon as I clean up," she said.

He grunted again, listening as she slipped away from the campsite, her feet making very little noise in the process.

Shaking his head as he stood up and moved in closer to the fire, he held his hand over the flattish rock he'd arranged in the center of the blazing flames.  Still not quite enough heat coming off of it to serve the purpose yet, and he straightened up, draping his hands on his hips as he slowly turned to survey the campsite.

It wasn't bad, he figured.  The shelter looked sturdy enough for the chill of the oncoming evening, and he'd made a makeshift stick rack that he'd stretched his shirt over to help it dry a little faster.  She'd already washed out and refilled the plastic water bottles that they'd emptied during the course of the day, and he sighed.  The water tasted fine, sure, but he made a mental note to get checked out by a doctor when he got back home because the last thing he wanted or needed was some weird stomach infection from drinking untreated water, in the first place.

Figuring that he might as well try to clean out the shelter a little since he wasn't fond of sleeping on decaying leaves, Fai started to move off, only to stop when his gaze caught on the ratty old teddy bear with one missing eye.  Hunkering down, he frowned as he slowly reached out, lifted the much-loved toy, turning it over in his hands.  What was it that she'd said . . .?

" _This belongs to one of our kids, and he loves it!  He doesn't care that it's so ragged.  He sees past that to the love that he feels instead!_ "

The absolute conviction in her gaze at that moment had lent an added brilliance, a lustrous sheen to her already stunning eyes . . .

He could feel a few places along the seams where someone had so carefully stitched the bear back together at one time or another, and he sighed, grimaced.

Setting the bear aside, he reached for the sketchbook.  The thick cover was scratched and worn, nothing more than pressed cardboard—a very cheap book.  The corners were thickened, starting to separate, and the pictures inside were barely discernable for the most part.  Even so, the awkward crayon lines and scribbles held their own quaint charm, and he sighed, grimacing at one picture in particular: a small stick figure with crazy scribbles of red hair, a stick figure smile, between two taller stick figures: one wearing a misshapen triangle of a bright yellow dress, one a plain but tall stick man.  The three were smiling their red-crayon smiles, standing beside a blocky house with angry red flames, putrid gray smoke, shooting out of the windows . . .

An involuntary shiver ran up his spine, and Fai very quickly closed the book and set it aside once more.

A worn and tattered baseball mitt that looked like it had seen much better days . . . a yellow haired doll with a grimy face—the smudges looked pretty well set in . . . Her eyes should have closed when she was held horizontally, but only one did . . . A die cast car that used to be bright red but was so chipped and faded that it seemed almost a dark pink . . . It was missing a wheel, and the two back wheels were wired on . . . A thick storybook compilation of Grimm's fairy tales . . . A half-deflated American football . . .

And all of those things each belonged to a child—prized possessions, Saori had said.  They'd let her take their precious things, all in the hopes that she'd be able to change his mind.

He sighed.  That was the hell of it, wasn't it?

He'd never wanted to take away the funding for the orphanage.  That was the very last thing he'd ever wanted to do, but . . .

' _Being tai-youkai isn't fun, Faine.  It never was meant to be.  You are the one who will have to make the tough decisions—decisions that might well mean that you're the one that people hate, that they blame, right or wrong.  It's a very harsh thing to have to do, but do it, you will because you must . . ._ '

Those were some of the words that Alexei had left him, all written in his neat hand in the pages of a thin journal that he'd found on his father's desk the first time he'd walked into the study after Alexei's disappearance.  That's what his father had been doing behind the closed doors for those thirty-five days after Faina's death.  He'd holed himself up in there, writing down all the things that he'd always meant to tell Fai, but hadn't gotten around to yet . . .

Now, that journal was locked in the fireproof safe, along with the rest of the valuable paperwork and things that made up the Demyanov empire.  One day, he'd let Yerik read it, too, but the opportunity hadn't presented itself yet. Besides, Yerik was still only eighteen.  He had some time before Yerik needed to read the words the journal contained . . .

As for the things, arranged so carefully on the fallen log?

Fai sighed.  It wasn't the first time that he had to wonder just how many more things he'd have to barter away, just to ensure the welfare of the majority . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Setting the wooden plank aside with a satisfied sigh, Saori rubbed her tummy as she uttered a small, almost rueful, laugh.  "I can't remember the last time I ate that much," she remarked.  "That was so good . . . How did you learn to cook like that?"

Offering a little shrug, Fai tossed his small plank into the fire and leaned back on his elbows.  Since they didn't have anything resembling a skillet, he'd made do by building the fire around a very large, flat rock that he'd then used to cook the fish.  "I was afraid it wouldn't work," he admitted.  "I've never tried cooking on a rock before."

She giggled, but the giggle shifted into a groan since she had eaten a lot more than she normally did.  "I've never thought to try cooking on one, either, but that was really, really good.  You know, if this whole tai-youkai gig falls through, I think you'd have a future in restaurant kitchens . . ."

"It was just a little salt and pepper," he maintained dryly, brushing off her lavish praise as though it were nothing at all.

She shook her head.  "You added something else.  I saw you," she said.

He chuckled.  "I found a little bit of basil," he relented.

She nodded and tried not to look at him since he was still very shirtless.  She'd seen men shirtless many times, but most of them were related to her, and the overall effect, she'd found, was vastly different, especially given that Fai was a very, very good-looking man . . . "I knew it!  But if you do it like that every night, I'll leave all the cooking to you."

"What?  Without a shirt, you mean?"

She blinked, couldn't help the blush that rushed into her cheeks.  Teasing, sure, but . . . Had he noticed that she had been blatantly staring?  ' _Kami, I hope not . . ._ '

' _Well, if you're going to stare, then that's a really nice thing to stare at, don't you think?_ '

She stifled a groan.  ' _You're not helping at all . . ._ '

' _Sure, I am!  Tell him you think he's damn fine looking, Saori.  He'll be flattered . . . I mean, wouldn't you be flattered if he said you looked good with your shirt off—Oh-h-h-h-h . . . Maybe you should take yours off, too!  I mean, fair's fair, right?  Besides, I happen to think we have a damn fine set of jugs, don't you?_ '

' _They're not big enough to be 'damn fine'_ ,' she shot back.  Then she smashed her hands against her cheeks for a long moment, squeezing her eyes closed, willing herself not to blush more.  ' _You so did not just say that!_ ' she half-groaned, half-squeaked.  ' _Oh,_ I _didn't just say that . . ._ '

' _Naked in the forest . . . What could possibly go wrong?_ '

She sighed, resolved not to say anything else on the subject.

"Are you all right?"

Blinking away the last of her reverie, Saori offered a silent word of thanks for the pervasive darkness that hid her embarrassment—she hoped.  "I just . . . I just meant that you cook so well, you should do it all the time, is all," she managed, proud of how normal she sounded, given the situation.

He sighed.  "I wish . . ."

"Oh?"

"Cooking is my hobby," he admitted.  "Well, kind of.  I don't have a lot of time to do it, though.  Too many other things . . ."

She considered that as her amusement waned.  Being who he was, what he was . . . No, it probably didn't leave a lot of time for him to pursue any other interests.  Something about that bothered her.  After all, she'd heard from time to time, as her mother and her aunt had talked over tea, just how often had her aunt complained about the same sort of thing with Toga?  That he was so busy so often that he, at times, missed things or had to cancel plans?  "You should never give up something that makes you happy," she finally said.  "Responsibilities are important, but if that's all you have, then what do you have to make you smile?"

"Smiling isn't in a tai-youkai's job description," he told her, but it wasn't mean or even condescending.  No, there was a matter-of-factness in his voice that bothered her, like he was resigned to it when maybe he shouldn't have been . . .

"And what makes you smile, Fai-sama?" she asked quietly.

Turning his head to look at her, he had such a serious expression on his face that it hurt her to see it on some level, but she refused to look away.  A second later, that unsettling sensation was back, like hurling down a ski slope at a hundred miles per hour, like the floor being dropped out from under her, like riding the elevator in the Inutaisho Industries complex . . . She had to smash her hand over her stomach to control the rioting, and she wondered vaguely if he could hear the blood, thundering through her veins . . .?

It was hard to read his expression in the flickering light of the fire with the darkened sky above, with the deep black of the moonless heavens.  Hazel eyes so veiled, he almost seemed like he was looking to her for an answer, but she didn't understand the question, either . . . "I . . . I don't think anything does," he confessed, sounding as confused as she felt.  "That . . . That _sounds_ bad . . ."

"Nothing?" she prompted.

Letting out a deep breath, he shrugged, as though it were a foregone conclusion.  "It's not like tai-youkai are afforded the luxury of days off," he told her.  "It's not like I have the luxury of waking up and thinking that I can put it all aside for the day or anything like that."

"You're not being tai-youkai today," she reminded him.

He grunted.  "That's different.  You kidnapped me.  Meanwhile, Asia's probably going to hell in a handbasket.  That's the expression, isn't it?"

"I _appropriated_ you, Fai-sama . . . Haven't we been through this already?"

"It doesn't change facts, Saori," he told her.

"Yes, well, what you said: that's an American-ism," she pointed out.  "I think, anyway . . ." She frowned.  "What about your brother?  Don't you get along with him?"

Pushing himself up, straightening his arms as they stuck out behind him, braced on the earth, Fai sighed.  "We're . . . not seeing eye to eye at the moment," he admitted.

She nodded slowly, sitting up, wrapping her arms around her ankles as she rested her chin on her raised knees.  "Well, I don't always get along with nii-chan," she said.  "Isn't that normal for siblings?"

"It's not like that," Fai replied.  "The last time Yerik came home, he said he wanted to be a hunter.  A _hunter_ ," he repeated, as though it would make a difference to her.  "Damn stupid, stubborn . . ." He sighed.  "Sometimes I think he comes up with these thoughts just to see what I'll say . . ."

"Is that really what you think?  I mean, being a hunter . . . It's more like a calling than something that you just choose out of the blue."

"And you know something of it?"

She shrugged.  "I know my fair share of hunters," she said.  "None of them chose to do what they do lightly."

"You may not take Yerik's side in this," he stated flatly.  "You haven't met him, don't know a thing about him, so your opinion doesn't count."

"Are you just saying this because you don't believe he can do it or because he really doesn't have the skills for the job?" she challenged mildly, almost philosophically.

"Both," he snapped, temper igniting since the subject was very obviously a sore spot.  Then he heaved a sigh, shook his head.  "Neither . . . I . . . I don't know."

"You _do_ know," she challenged quietly, almost placatingly—like she was trying to coax an answer out of him.  Maybe she was . . . Strangely, though, her persistence didn't actually bother him like it usually would have if someone else had dared to speak to him in such a way, but he didn't stop to dwell upon that, either . . .

"He's been trained," Fai admitted.  "He's been thoroughly trained by the same master who trained me.  He's quick on his feet, he's skilled at disarming opponents . . . He's able to hold his own, even against me.  He's . . . He's very, very good.  It's not that I think he _can't_ do it.  I know very well, just what he's capable of.  It's just . . ."

She bit her lip for a moment, considered what he'd said.  "Then what bothers you about the idea?" she finally asked.

Letting out a deep breath, not exactly a sigh, he shrugged.  "He's my brother," he slowly said.  "It's more than that.  I raised him from two years old.  I . . . I promised my father that I would make sure that he was safe.  Hunts . . . They're not pretty, and you end up, taking a life, and whether it's deserved or not, the bottom line is the same.  Yerik . . . I know he doesn't make rash decisions.  I've told him often over the years that it's better to think things through than to act on a gut feeling, but this time . . ."

"You don't believe that he's really thought it through?"

He made a face, hunching forward, drawing up his knees, wrapping his hands around them.  "No, I don't believe that, at all. He has, I'm sure.  Of course, he has.  Even so . . ." he admitted, lifting a hand, holding it up as though he were trying to emphasize his point for a long moment before letting it fall back once more.  "I just . . . The first time I was challenged, I was twenty—two years older than Yerik is now.  It was . . . days after I became tai-youkai, and I . . . I won, obviously, but . . . He was an old weasel-youkai.  I don't know how old, just . . . He was no real threat to me, and I didn't want to fight him.  I _had_ to, of course.  The fight lasted maybe five minutes.  It felt like forever, just because . . . but . . . the emotions that came with it as I stood over the place where I cut him down?  Yerik . . ." Slowly, he shook his head, scowl darkening as he glowered at the fire.  "I don't _want_ him to know that—to understand that . . ."

Saori didn't stop, didn't think, didn't do anything, but react as she scooted over, as she leaned her temple against his bicep.  Lifting a hand, gently rubbing his forearm, she sighed softly, wanting nothing more than to let Fai know that he wasn't alone.  For the briefest of seconds, he stiffened, and she felt his breath, stirring her hair.  Then he seemed to sigh though there was no sound, and a moment later, she felt the weight of his cheek against her head.

They sat that way for a long, long time, staring at the fire as the smoke rose in lazy, slow tendrils into the night sky . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** — — —
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _Poor guy ..._


	9. 008: Misting Dawn

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_8_** ~~  
~ ** _Misting Dawn_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

" _He's so handsome!  Who is he?_ "

" _I don't know . . . Isn't he an ermine-youkai?_ "

 _Sitting up a little straighter in her small desk in the far corner of the seventh grade classroom near the windows, Saori glanced up from the shoujo manga she was reading, only to blink and stare at the tall and lanky ermine-youkai who strode into the room and stood near Tomoko-sensei's desk in an almost casual kind of way.  All the girls in the room were whispering behind raised hands, behind raised books, the sound not unlike the twittering of small birds in the spring. The boys in the room seemed to fall silent as they took in the sight of the newcomer, and through her preoccupation, she could sense the hint of danger, as though the boys were sizing him up.  If the youth at the front of the room heard it, he made no indication as he casually flicked a bit of lint off the sleeve of the black training jacket he wore before reshouldering the black leather book bag slung almost carelessly over his shoulder.  The Tokyo Academy didn't adhere to dress codes, even though most of the girls wore cute little skirts and blouses while the boys, for the most part, usually wore dress pants and white shirts_.

 _Running his nimble fingers through his lustrous brown hair, he shook his head slightly, unruly bangs falling into his eyes in a careless kind of way, sky blue eyes sweeping over the room without any sense that he might well be an outsider.  For a split second, Saori felt the boy's gaze light on her and linger, just for a moment, before slowly, casually, moving on again_.

'I wonder who he is . . .?' _she thought idly, letting the manga drop from her slack fingers as she made no bones about staring at the new kid_.

'No idea, but it looks like Kentai-kun and Hoshisachi-kun might well be getting ideas . . .'

 _Reluctantly dragging her eyes off the boy, she shifted her gaze to the side and stifled a sigh.  Indeed, the two renowned troublemakers were staring at the new boy in a way that left very little doubt in her mind that they'd end up in oji-chan's office sooner or later over whatever it was they were planning_ . . .

 _Tomoko-sensei breezed into the room, sparing an easygoing smile at the gathering of students before heading for his desk.  He spoke with the new boy in hushed tones for a moment before shifting his gaze back over his class once more.  "Okay, okay," he called, waving a hand to gain their attention—entirely unnecessary since everyone was already staring at them both.  "Class, this is a new student.  His name is Yamato Kakashi—" a chorus of giggles broke over the room, "—Yes, Kakashi, just like in_ Naruto _. . . Anyway, his father was transferred here for his work with the Dongoro Foundation.  Make him feel welcome, please—thank yo-o-ou_."

 _That said, Tomoko-sensei gestured toward the back of the room—the only empty desk that just happened to be beside Saori_ . . .

" _Hello," Yamato-kun murmured to her, catching her eye as he slipped into the empty chair.  "Yoroshiku_ . . ."

 _Saori gasped quietly, her head snapping forward as a bright flush burst under her skin_.

 _It was probably the worst first introduction, ever, she suspected_ . . .

Awaking with a sigh, Saori didn't open her eyes as she savored the warmth of the body beside hers.  Wrapped around her might be a better way to put it, given that, at some point during the night, Fai had turned toward her, and whether she had melted against him or if he had pulled her over didn't really matter, not when the warmth of his body was so welcome in contrast to the brisk and almost cold, thin morning air.  Loathe to move enough to wake him, she did shrink back against him just a little closer.  After all, his shirt was still damp last night, and he hadn't put it back on before they'd gone to bed.  She might well have thought that the missing layer of clothing should have left them both, feeling just a little colder, but that wasn't the case at all.  No, if anything, the lack of his shirt seemed to intensify the heat, radiating off of him . . .

It occurred to her that she could go ahead and get up, could rebuild the fire to make some tea, maybe to find something for breakfast.  Too bad all of those things meant losing the warmth that beckoned her, that made her want to snuggle in, to go back to sleep . . .

' _Nah, this is much, much nicer than dreaming about that first time you met Kakashi-kun,_ ' her youkai-voice pointed out.

That was true enough, given that the first greeting was the only time, ever, that he'd spoken to her, never mind that they had been in the same class from then till graduation years later.

' _Concentrate, Saori.  Who cares about him, anyway?  I mean, why are we even wasting our time and energy, thinking about him—dreaming about him—when Fai-sama's right here—and he's warm . . . and he's comfortable . . ._ '

Saori was inclined to agree.  Fai really was entirely too cozy to resist.  Letting her eyes slip closed, she let out a contented sigh, snuggling just a little closer to him, savoring the feeling of his arm, under her cheek.

She was almost asleep again when he rolled the lower half of his body toward her, pulling her against him a bit tighter, which would have been just fine, but it brought certain parts of him into contact with her—most especially, with her rear—a very, very hard something, pressed against her—and her eyes flashed open as a sharp gasp whooshed out of her before she could stop it.

' _What is . . .?_ '  Eyes widening even more as late understanding dawned on her, she bit her lip, held her breath as her face exploded in embarrassed color.  ' _Oh, kami!  Kami, kami, kami, kami_ , kami!'

Her youkai laughed.  ' _Oh, now_ that's _impressive_ . . .'

She started to retort, but her reply was cut off short as another squeak squeezed out of her when the warmth, the balm, of his lips sought out the tender flesh of the nape of her neck . . .

Her breath caught somewhere between her nose and lungs as her eyes slipped closed, as a sudden and intense surge of fire shot through her, an almost electric kind of connection.  Unprepared for the insane shock of it all, her body melted against him, even as her brain struggled to understand just what was happening.

She couldn't.

The scrape of his fangs, the haze of his breath, the scorch of his mouth against her skin obliterated thought, set off tremors that rattled through her in such a rapid succession that she had no idea, just where one ended and another one began.  The hand that had been rather casually tossed over her waist slipped up under the hem of her sweatshirt, trailing over her belly, and she gasped loudly when his palm closed over her breast, the heat of his hand permeating the flimsy cotton of her bra as her body jerked of its own accord . . .

"W . . .What . . .?" he mumbled, hand stilling almost instantly when he tugged on the arm she was using as a pillow to prop himself up on his elbow.  "Wh . . .?"

She froze, his voice enough to crash down on her like a bucket of icy water.  It occurred to her somewhere in the depths of her addled brain that he sounded just as confused as she was, but the embarrassment that followed was more than enough to galvanize her into action.

Tossing back the blanket, she scrambled away from him and onto her hands and knees, wincing inwardly when his claws momentarily tangled in her sweatshirt.  He yanked it free fast as she scooted toward the open side of the shelter, smashing her mouth closed as she tried to stifle a mortified whimper.

Stumbling to her feet, she staggered away from the shelter, veering away from the campsite as she blindly followed the sound of water . . .

 

* * *

 

 

' _So, just how long are we going to follow along behind her in absolute silence?_ '

Fai didn't bother to respond to that as he scowled at the woman, carefully, but efficiently, picking her way through the underbrush.  She reshouldered her bags and kept moving, and he stifled a sigh.

Every time he'd tried to talk to her, she'd hurriedly changed the subject, twittering on as rapidly as she could about everything from the weather to the idea that they'd be reaching the orphanage soon enough.  It was almost as though she was afraid of what he would say to her, which seemed entirely ridiculous, given that he was the one who sincerely needed to apologize to her for his untoward reaction this morning.

And, to be honest, he really wasn't sure why he'd reacted the way he had.  Well, that wasn't entirely true.  He did know, didn't he?  ' _She was just . . . just a warm body, and I . . . I wasn't thinking.  That's all . . ._ '

His youkai-voice snorted indelicately.  ' _If you believe that, then you're really stupid, tai-youkai._ '

' _What other reason could there possibly be?  I . . . I barely know her!  It's not like I'd ever just do something like that randomly, out of the blue . . ._ '

' _My point, exactly, but if you want to keep playing the fool, then by all means—however, when you say that to her and make her cry?  Make sure you let her know that_ I _warned you that you're a damn idiot._ '

' _Make her cry?  How the hell would that make her cry?  All I said was—_ '

' _I heard what you said, Fai.  You said that she was—and I quote—just a warm body, that's all.  So, how would you react if someone said that to you after nearly mauling you in your sleep?  Even if you barely know her—which is kind of untrue—you have to realize that saying something like that to anyone would be a serious blow to the ego, don't you think?  Don't be dumb._ '

He snorted inwardly.  ' _It's not like I'd say it to her like that,_ ' he huffed, unconsciously quickening his pace, as though he thought that he could put some distance between himself and his youkai-voice.  ' _I would simply rather that she doesn't feel that it's going to happen again because it isn't.  It was an accident.  It was just warm and . . . and really, really comfortable . . ._ '

' _You know what?  You can't tell her something like that.  You just can't._ '

' _Why can't I?_ '

' _Think about it, will you?  Do you honestly think that that girl is like the others you've known?  She isn't.  Surely you can sense her naiveté for yourself, can't you?  She's not one of those prim and polished ladies, and whatever you say to her is going to stick with her for a very, very long time, so, even if you don't know how you feel about her, think about what you're going to leave her with when it's all said and done because_ she _is going to remember it, long after she's forgotten what you look like._ '

' _. . . And just why would she forget what I look like?_ '

His youkai heaved a long, loud sigh.  ' _You act like you don't care about her in the least—that's what you say, right?_ '

' _I never said that.  I—_ '

' _Incidentals, Fai.  You keep saying that the only reason you're here with her now is because you didn't want her to go traipsing off alone, which is complete crap, really, given that she's showed herself to be perfectly able to take care of herself out here.  So, either you like her or you don't, but if you do, then you can admit it to yourself.  It's not like there's anyone in your own head that is going to make fun of you for being intrigued by her—because I sure as hell am!_ '

' _Why would I ever be intrigued by someone who's going to forget what I look like?_ ' he grumbled.

His youkai grunted.  ' _If that idea bothers you so much, then make sure she has a reason to remember you._ '

"So, uh . . . From what I can tell, we should reach the orphanage within the next hour or so," Saori remarked in a forced bright tone, unwittingly interrupting the heated conversation between Fai and his annoying youkai-voice.

Scowling at her back, Fai reached out without really considering his actions, grasping her wrist and pulling her around to face him.  "Okay," he allowed rather tightly.  "Then we need to talk before we get there."

She started to shake her head, her cheeks blossoming in a very becoming blush as she stared at his hand, wrapped around her wrist.  "Everything's fine, and—"

"You could slap me if you wanted to," he interrupted with all the finesse of a sledgehammer.  "What I did this morning . . ."

"Wh—? O-O-Oh, that . . .? Um, it was—"

He sighed, dragging her over to a fallen and decaying tree where he sat down, tugging her down beside him.  "I didn't mean to do that," he said.  "It was . . . entirely unseemly, and I apologize."

"Oh, I didn't—didn't think you—you meant anything by it.  It was just, um . . ."

Shaking his head, he let go of her wrist, hunching forward just enough to rest his forearms on his knees, steepling his fingertips together between his slightly spread knees.  "Don't make excuses for me, Saori," he told her.  "You don't have to.  You were . . . were warm, and I was comfortable—maybe more comfortable than I've been in a . . . long time . . ."

She blinked, her eyes flashing up to meet his as her flush darkened just a little.  "But . . . But we were on the ground . . . I mean, your bed has to be much more comfortable than that . . ."

Offering her a slight shrug, he sat up, let his head fall back as he stared up at the sky through the branches of the trees.  "I don't often sleep well," he admitted, unsure why he was telling her any such thing.  "Even when I'm exhausted, it's like my brain won't stop—constantly mulling over decisions, trying to think things through, to make the best choices, given my options."

She considered that for a long moment, absently listening to the sounds of the birds in the trees.  Their happy song that felt so at odds with the gravity of their discussion . . . Did she feel that, too? he wondered vaguely.

"And you slept really well last night . . ." she finally ventured.  It wasn't a question.  If anything, she sounded a bit incredulous.

"I did," he admitted.  "To be honest, I've slept better almost every night out here . . ."

"Oh . . ."

He uttered a terse laugh.  "You sound like you understand it," he replied.

"Maybe it's the fresh air," she said, digging a bottle of water out of her knapsack.  "They say that it helps to clear the mind."

"I get fresh air at home," he countered.  "That's not it, but if you know why, then feel free to let me in on it."

She shrugged, taking a long drink from the bottle before offering it to him.  He took it and did the same.  "Maybe it's all the walking?"

He considered that, then shrugged.  "Maybe."  But he didn't really think that was the reason, either.  No, the real reason that whispered to him . . . He wasn't entirely sure he was ready for that much truth, after all . . .

 

* * *

 

 

"My God, you smell awful."

Rolling her eyes, trying her hardest, not to blush, Saori spun around on her heel, only to come face to face with Dmitri Yegsteric, who casually leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles, a playful little smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  Black hair pulled back in a low hanging ponytail that rested over his shoulder, his dark eyes sparkling with his misplaced amusement, he chuckled when she narrowed her gaze on him.  "You have no manners to speak of, do you?" she grumbled.

Dmitri chuckled.  "I must confess, of all the outcomes I imagined from your little sojourn, I never thought you'd drag the tai-youkai all the way out here."

She made a face as she turned away to dig through her drawers for a change of clothes.  "That was an accident," she muttered as the blush that she'd tried to stave off shot to the fore despite her efforts.

"Do tell."

She sighed, snatching a pair of plain white cotton panties out of the drawer along with a white cotton bra.  "I . . . _might_ have . . . kidnapped him . . ."

Dead silence greeted her admission.  It lingered for a good ten seconds before he promptly burst into laughter.  "You did _what?_ "

She sighed a second time, slamming that drawer closed and yanking open the next one down.  "It was an accident," she insisted hotly.  "I mean, after I knocked him out—"

"Dear God, you were just supposed to plead our case, not manhandle the poor man . . . You knocked him out?"

She snorted.  "No, the van did.  You know how the hatch won't stay up without holding it, and . . . and I forgot _and_ I dropped the teddy bear, so when he bent down to pick it up, the hatch . . ." She couldn't stop the wince that contorted her features.  It sounded so much worse when she said it out loud, didn't it . . .?

Dmitri looked like he was ready to lose what was left of his composure as he shoved himself away from the door frame, digging his hands deep into his pockets as he wandered forward into her tiny room.  "Okay, so you've told me how you managed to brain the tai-youkai.  How about you tell me how you kidnapped him.

Rubbing her forehead for a moment before she retrieved a clean pair of jeans, she let out a deep breath.  "Well, from there, it was easy enough.  I just shoved him into the van and got out of there, of course."

Shaking his head, Dmitri chuckled again.  "But . . . why?"

Casting him a quelling kind of glance, she wrinkled her nose.  "Why else?  He needs to meet the children—needs to see how much they'll suffer if he really does take away the funding for the orphanage."

"I see," he replied, crossing an arm over his stomach, resting his elbow on his raised forearm so that he could scratch his chin thoughtfully.  "Well, I guess that does make sense—sort of—but kidnapping Faine Demyanov?  Was that really a good idea?"

She shrugged.  "He's here, isn't he?"

Dmitri slowly shook his head.  "I feel as though this is going to end badly, Saori," he pointed out.

She made a face, rolling her eyes as she shifted her clothing to one side and reached for her plastic caddy that held her bathing supplies.  "He's fine, and he had a pretty good time, actually," she replied.  "It's going to be all right.  You'll see!  He'll just get to know the children, and I'm sure he'll change his mind . . ."

Dmitri heaved a longsuffering sigh and slowly shook his head.  "You are being entirely too optimistic here, you realize," he pointed out.

She rolled her eyes again and blew him a kiss as she hurried out of her room and down the short hallway that led to the stairs.  At this time of day, the older children were all at school, but the younger ones were all in the main building, playing games and being monitored by the daytime team who tended to hate being referred to as 'babysitters'.

She'd left Fai with Director Bostoyev, who had looked entirely stunned when she'd walked into the compound with the Asian tai-youkai in tow.

' _Surprised isn't really what he was,_ ' her youkai-voice pointed out as she stepped outside, blinking momentarily as her eyes adjusted from the dimmer light inside to the brilliance of the afternoon sun.  ' _Shell-shocked might be a better way to describe the expression on his face.  Near panicked is another good one . . ._ '

' _It wasn't that bad . . . Surely he has to see that having Fai-sama here is a far sight better than trying to convince him just by talking to him . . ._ '

Her voice sighed.  ' _Yeah, and about that . . . You can't really think he's going to change his mind about defunding the orphanage that easily, can you?_ '

Deliberately slowing her gait as she headed for the bath house-slash-restroom, Saori bit her lip.  ' _There's no way he'll be able to say no once he meets the children,_ ' she insisted.  ' _They're so young, so innocent . . . They deserve the relative stability they get here._ '

The deep sigh wasn't exactly encouraging, but she brushed that off, determined not to let negativity get the better of her.  She'd attended a seminar when she was at the university—the power of positivity—and the speaker, a young man who believed  that you could dictate and shape your future, simply by believing that good things would happen, and Saori had really latched onto the idea.  In her opinion, it worked, too.  Whenever she was faced with a tough decision, she reminded herself that if she simply thought positively—if she visualized the best outcome—then that's what she attracted.  It had worked thus far, hadn't it?  Of course, it would work this time, as well.  After all, Fai just had to change his mind.  The idea of him defunding the place for real?  It just wasn't something she could truly wrap her brain around . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Shoujo_** _**manga** : girls' manga… stories geared toward girls_.
> 
>  ** _Yoroshiku_** _: Hard to explain, exactly.  Better to say that what Kakashi probably actually said here was "Hajimimashite dozou yoroshiku", which is usually something politely said when you first meet someone.  "Pleased to meet you.  Please take care of me," is the gist of its meaning here_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Silent Reader
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Athena_Evarinya ——— minthegreen ——— moongal850
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lianned88
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _It'll all work out!  You'll see_!


	10. 009: Desperation

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_9_** ~~  
~ ** _Desperation_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Standing in the small, cramped office on the second floor of the dilapidated building, the two men stared at each other in silence, as though they were measuring the mettle of the other as the seconds ticked away on the very old mantle clock on the old wooden filing cabinet near the desk.

Mikhail Bostoyev, Director of the St. Nicholas II Home for Children, a very haggard-looking deer-youkai, pressed his already thin lips together in a straight line, scowling thoughtfully, his head cocked to the left, arms crossed over his chest over the worn and nubby cream colored open sweater, the dark blue and otherwise nondescript button down shirt, the rumpled but clean gray slacks.  "I confess," he began, slowly shaking his head, "I was . . . shocked when you walked in with Saori . . . I'm sorry we have no better accommodations for you, Your Grace . . ."

Waving off the director's concern since the room he'd been escorted to was one of the staff bedrooms—little more than a small box of a room, maybe six feet square—with a rickety metal twin size bed and one blanket, one pillow, and a small dresser that was little better than pressed cardboard, Fai dug his hands into the pockets of the slightly baggy and rather short pants that he'd borrowed from Bostoyev while his own clothing was washed and dried.  The shirt he'd been given belonged to one of the staffers, Dmitri, who was much taller in body than the director, whose shirts likely would have looked fairly ridiculous on Fai's lankier frame—probably akin to a belly shirt.  He'd been able to get a shower quickly enough, and the open communal shower had gone unnoticed since he hadn't really cared at the time.  The water smelled like minerals, like old iron, but he didn't mind that, either.  If he'd ever felt quite as clean before in his life, he couldn’t recall.  It was the magic of having lived in his own filth for over a week, he supposed . . . "I appreciate your hospitality," Fai assured him.  "I apologize for not giving you prior notice, but my cell got broken, and Saori's was dead."

The director uttered a terse, decidedly nervous, laugh.  "Well, you chose a good day—it's borsch day . . ." he joked.

"It's fine," Fai assured him.  Then he sighed.  The small talk felt so stilted, so unnecessary when the elephant in the room loomed so large.  "Director, do you mind if we skipped the banter?"

Bostoyev looked rather relieved at the frank offer.  "Of course; of course . . . I guess I should just say that I think closing this facility wouldn't benefit youkai as a whole.  Throwing these children in with human children?  It's a dangerous, maybe even a reckless, thing to do.  Parents know that it's their own responsibility to teach their children how to control their powers, how to deal with anger and those types of things.  If these children, during these formative years, do not get the full time support of other youkai, they run the risk of drawing the attention of those who would seek to destroy our kind.  I daresay you realized this already?"

Fai nodded slowly.  It was something he'd known.  The trouble was, whether he knew it or not, he wasn't entirely sure that there was anything he could do to stop it, either . . . unless . . .

"You need to cut some of the staff."

Blinking as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, Bostoyev crossed his arms over his chest and tried his hardest, not to look entirely put-upon by Fai's abrupt demand.  "I assure you, Your Grace, we really don't have any extraneous staff, and—"

"And how many advocates do you have?  Saori tells me that she is in charge of just a handful of children in that capacity?  Surely you could easily let a few of the advocates go and redistribute their workloads.  It would save a good deal off the annual budget.  And tell me, do you really need to employ separate house parents?  What I'm getting at is, if you can redistribute your workloads, cut down your staff by, say, a third, then I wouldn't have to defund this place as quickly as I would otherwise."

"Well," Bostoyev mused slowly, thoughtfully stroking the short salt-and-pepper beard.  "I suppose I could look into it.  I could let the most recently added staff go—and yes, we could easily have the older advocates pick up some of the children who would be displaced by letting go of them . . ."

A sudden thought made Fai scowl.  "And just where does Saori fall in this?"

Bostoyev shook his head.  "She's the newest one we've hired," he allowed.  "Fairest would be to let her go first . . ."

"Fairest?" Fai echoed.

Bostoyev sighed.  "I would rather not let any of the staff go," he pointed out in a tired, sad kind of way.  "I understand your position, and I see the necessity of what you've said.  I cannot keep her on and let someone else go, though.  She's only worked here for six months.  We have some children here who were babies when they came to us.  They're teenagers now, and they've worked with the same advocates for years.  They trust them.  They _know_ them.  Should I dismiss those advocates just to keep Saori here?"

There really wasn't much he could say about that, was there?  It made perfect sense.  Even so, she wasn't going to be pleased with the outcome, even if keeping the orphanage open was what she had truly wanted.

Letting out a deep breath as he strode across the creaking floor to glance out the window, watching as about ten children ran around in the yard, playing on the sparse grass and dirt.  He frowned.  There were no toys, no swings or slides; no sports gear or other things that were notable for outdoor play.  There was nothing at all except a tired old lawn that was worn down to dirt . . . One little girl—maybe about four—scraped a hopscotch board into the ground with a stick.  It was shaky and wavering, but the others didn't seem to mind at all as they waited their turns to hop through it . . .

The smaller ones stayed close to the attendants—there were three of them—holding hands as they walked around the perimeter.  Fai's scowl deepened.  "They have no toys?" he heard himself asking, but even before he finished the question, he already knew the answer.  Of course, they didn't.  The place barely had enough funding to keep the doors open, let alone to be able to spend money on anything frivolous.  After all, they could exist without toys, even if it did make their lives just a little duller.

"We try every year, but every year, it seems like something more important arises," Bostoyev admitted with a sigh.  "We do the best we can.  Even our staff . . . Holidays, birthdays . . . Those are celebrated out of our pockets, and I don't mean to sound ungrateful.  I'm not.  It's just how it is, Your Grace."

Fai nodded slowly, but didn't take his eyes off the children in the yard.  Seeing them with so very little, and yet, he could also sense their pleasure, too, and something about that dug at him.  He could understand and appreciate what Bostoyev was saying.  The needs far outweighed the wish to indulge the children.  On some level, it was demoralizing.  Even though the staff realized that they were doing everything that they could, that they were fulfilling the emotional needs of the children in their care, how hard was it, to see those children's hopeful faces, only to have to tell them 'no' over and over again . . .?

"What sort of curriculum do you have, then, as far as structured activities?" Fai questioned, finally turning away from the window to level a stare at the man in question.

Director Bostoyev smiled, and this one seemed a little more genuine, or maybe the sense of nervousness had simply dissipated when he'd learned that Fai was going to let the orphanage keep operating, despite demands that they had to cut their staff.  "Well, we do teach the children defense skills, sparring skills—age appropriate, of course—along with tracking and such.  We do like to take them out to learn survival skills during camping adventures—they all seem to enjoy that.  In the winter time, we engage them in skills such as sewing and other needle crafts.  The older children usually get involved in turning the surrounding yards into networks of tunnels with dug out rooms and things . . . It's always very impressive.  Last year in particular, one rarely had to brave the winter wind outside.  They created passages to all of the outlying buildings, including the bath house.  During the summers, all of the children are required to help in the garden, raising food for winter, so they gain an appreciation of where the food on the table comes from . . ."

"And what do they do for fun?"

That question seemed to give the director pause, and he smiled a little sadly.  "They have time for fun, of course, but as with everything, it is a careful balance."

' _A balance that children shouldn't have to understand—at least, not to this extent—should they?_ '

Frowning at the question posed by his youkai-voice, Fai nodded vaguely.  "And . . ."

"And . . .?" Bostoyev prompted when Fai trailed off.

Leveling a no-nonsense look at the man, Fai stared at him for a long moment—a tactic that his advisor had told him would help to add a sense of authority to Fai's stance—before he finally spoke.  "And we need to make more of an effort to find permanent families for these children."

Bostoyev heaved a sigh.  "Your Grace, at the risk of sounding pessimistic, I've tried.  I try all day, every day, looking for families that are interested in adopting, but the glaring truth of it is that this region . . . It's poor.  Most can barely afford the children they have, and taking in another . . ."

Fai shook his head.  "You misunderstand, Director.  Forgive me.  I didn't state that well enough.  When I get back home, I'm going to start contacting a few of the other tai-youkai.  I'm going to see if any of them have families that might be interested in adopting any of the children."

"Your Grace—" Bostoyev began, only to be cut off when Fai held up a hand.

"No matter how you look at it, these children deserve families.  What you're doing here is good, solid work, Director, but the best possible outcomes would be in finding families—real families—for as many of them as possible.  Having that sense of belonging, no matter where they live . . . Isn't that more important than our pride in this situation?"

The director didn't look at all pleased by Fai's decision.  To be honest, Fai wasn't entirely satisfied with it, either, but the truth he'd presented was and should be more important.  Seeing the children at play in the yard had solidified that thought in his mind.  As much as he loathed the idea of having to call anyone else for perceived help, the children and their futures . . .

They were more important, just like Saori had said.

 

* * *

 

 

"Demyanov residence.  How may I help you?"

"Vasili . . . Hello. Evgeni Feodosiv here.  I was going to be in the area tomorrow, and I wondered if His Grace was free at some point in the afternoon?  Maybe dinner?"

"I'm sorry, Lord Feodosiv.  His Grace is out of the area at the moment, and he isn't expected to return in time for your visit."

Scowling at the butler's smooth tone, Evgeni shook his head.  "Do you know when he will return?"

"Apologies, my lord.  His Grace is away on a personal matter."

"Personal?" Evgeni echoed, willing himself to check his tone, to insert a bit of harmless cajoling instead of the surly growl he was feeling.  "He tells me everything, Vasili.  You know this."

"His Grace's business is unknown to me.  He only tells me what I need to know to keep his household running smoothly.  You understand."

Gritting his teeth at the not-so-subtle chiding in the old butler's voice, Evgeni counted to twenty.  "Would you be so good as to tell me why his cell phone appears to be unreachable?"

"That, I do not know.  Perhaps he's simply out of area.  However, when he calls, I'll be more than happy to pass along your message that you'd like for him to call you.  Good day, my lord."

"Damn!" he growled, slapping the cell phone onto the wide desk when the connection abruptly cut off, Evgeni shot to his feet, paced the office floor with the finesse of a caged lion.

Where the hell was he?

Snatching up the cell phone again, Evgeni scrolled through the numbers and connected the call.

It rang three times—enough to irritate Evgeni just a little more—before the youkai finally answered it.  "Hello?"

"Stepanovich, I require your assistance," Evgeni stated, barely able to keep the anger from frothing over.

"What do you want?"

Evgeni grunted.  "I need you to find out the whereabouts of the tai-youkai," he replied tightly.

Taras Stepanovich didn't answer for a moment.  "Is he missing?  Are you sure he wasn't challenged—maybe defeated?"

"That was not the sense I got.  Find him quickly, and report back."

"Okay," Stepanovich agreed.

The connection ended, and Evgeni stomped around the desk to slosh vodka—Faina Crystal Label—into a glass.

Stepanovich wouldn't fail.  He never failed.  Taras had an uncanny ability to dig up information.

Even so, something about the situation didn't set well with him.  Something about it felt . . . unnatural.  Knowing Fai as well as he did, he knew damn well that the tai-youkai wasn't ever in the habit of just randomly disappearing.  He simply was too methodic for that, and that was one of the few things that Evgeni could appreciate on some level about him.

Put simply, it wasn't in Fai's nature to do anything off the cuff, so to speak, and he had a feeling that Vasili, the old bastard, knew much more than he was saying . . .

' _Maybe . . . Maybe we should stop by anyway . . . Have a face to face chat with Vasili . . ._ '

Slowly, slowly, the corners of Evgeni's lips turned upward, but the smile held no humor at all in the expression.  No, it was cold and calculated . . . and angry . . .

 

* * *

 

 

"So, um, Saori . . ."

Glancing up from the book she was reading to a three-year-old girl named Galinia, she smiled up at Dmitri as he slipped onto the bench beside her.  "Hmm?"

Dmitri sighed.  "It's your . . . Well, the tai-youkai," he said slowly, carefully, almost methodically.

"Fai-sama?"

He nodded as he reached over to pluck Galinia out of Saori's arms, followed by the book.  "Yeah, you'd better go intervene.  He's going to make Ilia cry."

"What?"

Jerking his head in the general direction of the kitchen, Dmitri made a face.  "He told her that she didn't know what she was doing and to get out of there and go do something useful instead," he explained.

"Oh, my . . ."

Wasting no time, Saori hurriedly stood up and strode over to the opened doorway of the kitchen, spotting Fai, chopping cabbage on a cutting board with a dark scowl on his face as Ilia, the resident cook, stood by with a long wooden spoon in her hand, her arms crossed over her chest as she scowled at the tai-youkai.  "What's . . . going on here?" Saori asked, trying for a bright and, hopefully, neutral tone.

Ilia, seeing her as reinforcement, let her arms drop as she pivoted to look at her, pointing the spoon directly at Fai's chest in a stance that was not unlike the children when they had a dispute outside in the yard.  "He—He says—"

"Everyone knows that using marinated kelp in borscht is disgusting and wrong," Fai stated flatly _and_ loudly.  "Utterly barbaric!  Cabbage!  Never kelp!  No wonder the children didn't look happy about having that for dinner tonight."

Saori's mouth fell open at the harsher than normal tone from the tai-youkai.

Ilia growled under her breath.  "They like it fine, and the kelp is delicious!  You're prejudiced!  Prejudiced against Lenten borscht!"

"Oh, I don't think he's—" Saori began in a placating tone, only to be cut off by a very loud, very decisive snort as Fai rolled his eyes.

"Prejudiced?  How can I be prejudiced against a soup?  Besides, everyone knows that traditional borscht is the best recipe!"

Ilia tried again.  "The clergy—"

"—Are used to eating plain foods—nasty food.  It's a part of their penance," Fai shot back.

Ilia waved the wooden spoon at him.  He jerked back when the utensil came very close to his nose.  "Have you even tried it with kelp instead of cabbage before?"

"Yes," Fai growled, grabbing the spoon and yanking it out of the woman's hand, "and it was disgusting.  You will not feed those children that slop—not if I have a say in it!  Consider it law!  Kelp does not belong in borscht, _ever!_ "

"You can't decree something like that!  That's—"

"I just did, didn't I?  And I'm tai-youkai— _tai-youkai_ —so that's that!"

"Okay," Saori interrupted, stepping forward to separate the two contenders—over borscht.  "Come on, Ilia.  Let's get the bread ready."

Ilia didn't look like she wanted to comply, but she grudgingly allowed Saori to drag her across the small kitchen to the other counter where the bread was ready to be formed into the loaves for dinner.  "This is _my_ kitchen," she grumbled under her breath.  "Tai-youkai ought to pay more attention to the important affairs and leave the cooking to those who know how to do it!"

Saori grimaced since she knew well enough that Fai did take pride in his cooking abilities, and she hoped that maybe he'd missed the comment.  One glance back at the man, however, proved that he had, indeed, heard it, and she stifled a sigh.

"I've been cooking for years," he said loudly, succinctly.  "I know well enough, what I'm doing—better than someone who has the audacity to stick kelp in borscht, anyway."

Ilia started to retort, but Saori gave her arm a little yank, thrusting the large wooden bowl of the proofed black bread into her hands.

Satisfied that the argument was over—at least, at the moment—Saori stepped back since Ilia did not like to have interference while she was cooking.  She had the system down to a science, and Saori had learned long ago, not to interfere with the woman's process.  Instead, she wandered over to a still scowling Fai.  "She's a very good cook," Saori pointed out in what she hoped was a neutral tone.

Dumping the cabbage into the huge cauldron of soup on the ancient industrial stove, Fai snorted.  "I'm sure she is—just not this."

"You're being offensive, Your Grace," she pointed out, arching an eyebrow to emphasize her point.

"Honesty is never offensive," he shot back, slapping the lid on the pot and leveling a very dry scowl at her.

"Come meet some of the children," she coaxed, hoping against hope that she could get him out of the kitchen before he started another war of words with the embattled cook.

"In a minute.  Just let me have a look at the bread, and—"

"And the bread is fantastic—best I've ever had," Saori hurriedly said, grabbing his arm before he could spin away to inspect that, too.

He stopped dead still, taking a moment to stare, very pointedly, at her hand, still grasping him.  "The best you've ever had?" he echoed dubiously, managing somehow to look offended by the very idea.

She rolled her eyes and tugged until he had no choice but to follow her toward the doorway.  "Leave Ilia alone," she said.  "If you don't, she'll quit, and there's no one here who can do what she does for the amount she's paid."

Fai uttered a terse grunt, but allowed her to lead him out of the room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Sora
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— minthegreen ——— Okmeamithinknow
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lianned88
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _There is only one right way to make borscht_ …!


	11. 010: Lessons

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_10_** ~~  
~ ** _Lessons_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

"What are you doing?"

Glancing up from the fire that he'd built around a large, flat rock, Fai blinked as he came face-to-face with a very small otter-youkai girl.  Light brown hair pulled back in a high ponytail, she shuffled her scuffed sneakers in the dirt as she smiled a little reluctantly at him.

He wasn't sure why, but he'd ignored the common-sense part of his brain this morning that had suggested that he borrow a phone and arrange transportation to get back home.  After all, he'd done what he came to do: he'd seen the home, had met the children, had made arrangements with Director Bostoyev . . . But instead of doing that, he'd seen Saori, rounding up the children in her charge for a weekend camping trip along with another of the advocates, Dmitri and his children, and he'd volunteered to go along.

' _Only because you didn't like how close Dmitri was standing next to her,_ ' his youkai-voice scoffed.

' _That had nothing at all to do with it,_ ' Fai insisted hotly, intentionally refusing to think about how intimate they had looked as Dmitri leaned down to speak to her while Saori rested a hand on the man's forearm.  Then she had laughed . . .

' _For tai-youkai, you're really dense, Fai._ '

' _Shut up._ '

"I'm getting this ready to cook on," he said, jerking his head toward the dancing flames as he reached out to take the pieces of wood she'd gathered.  To her, it was a very large armload.  To him?  It was a few moderately sized sticks.  "These are very nice," he told her.  "What's your name?"

"Galinia," she replied.  "What's your name?"

"Me?  I'm . . . I'm Fai," he said, foregoing his title for once.

"Fai?" she repeated thoughtfully, her round cheeks tinged with a healthy pink.  She really was a gorgeous child—one who deserved a home—a family—of her own.  "That's a funny name," she decided.

"I was named after my mother," he told her.  "Her name was Faina . . . My real name is Faine."

She considered that and shrugged.  "I don't have a mother," she said.

He frowned.  Of course, he knew that.  None of the children had parents, obviously.  Even so, hearing the girl, stating it so matter-of-factly?  It bothered him—a lot.  "Do you know what happened to your mother?" he asked gently.

She shrugged, throwing her tiny hands up to her sides.  "I don't know!" she exclaimed.  "I don't remember . . ."

"I'm . . . sorry to hear that . . ."

"Saori says everyone here's family," she went on, entirely unfazed by the topic of conversation.  "So, I have lots of brothers and sisters and everyone!"

"I suppose you do," he allowed, clearing his throat as he tried to smile and failed.

She giggled softly.  "I'm going to get more wood!" she promised, backing away from him.

He managed to smile, just a little.  "You did a great job," he told her.  "In fact, I think we have enough for awhile . . . Why don't you go play instead?"

She looked a little confused, but he nodded to encourage her, and she laughed again before speeding away toward the large tent that had been set up for the girls.

"She likes you."

Blinking as he shifted his gaze to meet Saori's, he shrugged and turned back to fuss with the fire.  "She's cute," he replied a little defensively, as though to explain the reason why he was caught, chatting with the child.  "Where's your, uh . . . Dmitri?"

"Dmitri?  He's fishing with the older kids," she explained.  "I came back to help the little ones gather wood."

"Does he have to use a line?"

Saori laughed.  "Dmitri fishes with his hands, just like I do . . ." Trailing off, she giggled once more, but the laughter died away slowly, and she sighed, instead.  "Anyway, Galinia . . . Her parents were killed in a car accident shortly after her first birthday," she explained.  "She's been here ever since."

Settling back on his haunches, resting his bent elbows on his knees, he tilted his head up to the sky.  "When I go home, I'm going to start calling around, see if any of the other tai-youkai have parents looking to adopt . . . You, uh . . . You're right.  My pride isn't nearly as important as these children are."

She seemed almost surprised by his easy acquiescence, but she didn't remark upon it.  "I'd love to see these children have real homes," she said instead.  "I'd miss them, but it's best for them.  I mean, everyone deserves a place to belong."  She sighed.  "Well, I'll miss them, anyway . . . The director told me that you agreed to keep funding the orphanage, but he has to cut staff, and as the newest one, I'm going to be let go . . . I mean, I'm okay with that as long as the orphanage stays open, so . . . so, thank you for that."

"What will you do?" he asked.

She shrugged, as though it were of no real consequence.  "Go home, I guess," she said.  She sounded pragmatic enough.  She also sounded just a little sad, too.  "I was offered a job there, but I thought maybe I could make more of a difference here . . . Even so, if the home can stay open, then maybe I did help some, anyway . . ."

For some reason, Saori's thoughtful, reflective tone did little to please Fai.  If anything, it made him a little angrier at the situation, even though he wasn't entirely sure, why that was.

' _Because,_ ' his youkai-voice mused, ' _she really doesn't deserve to lose her job, and you know it._ '

He frowned.  Yes, he supposed there was a great deal of truth to that.  Even so, it really couldn't be helped, and he had a feeling that this impromptu camping trip was her way of saying goodbye to the children she'd worked with, that she'd come to care for, and, while he had little doubt that the children would ultimately be all right, he could understand that there was likely to be at least a little unrest while things got evened out.

' _There's something else, you know . . ._ '

' _What's that?_ '

His youkai sighed.  It was a long, drawn out sigh— a weary sigh.  ' _Just think about it, Fai . . . You'll figure it out._ '

' _You're not going to tell me?_ '

' _No, I'm not.  Some of these things . . . They're too important to just tell you.  Some things are better if you figure them out yourself._ '

He snorted inwardly at the enigmatic answer.

"You know, if you'd rather go back—sleep in a real bed, relax—I understand.  It's fine," she told him, reading his expression and interpreting it to mean that he was unhappy about the camping, in general.

"No, it's fine," he assured her.  "We brought a lot of food, though, didn't we?"

She laughed, but to him, it sounded a little less exuberant than usual for her.  "Well, they're pups," she explained with a simple little shrug as she sank down on a fallen log that they'd pulled over to use as a bench.  "They get hungry faster, and it's easier to pack some food for them instead of having to hunt it all."

"But they should learn how to hunt, how to track . . . Those things are important."

"They are," she agreed amiably enough.  Then she giggled.  "Do you want to take them out?  Show them how to track?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, cocking an eyebrow at her thinly veiled challenge.  "I could," he said.  "That would be simple enough."

Her smile faded, but the sparkle remained in her eyes.  "Well, when I was taught, oji-chan used little bags of candy.  He hid them in the forest, and I had to find them all, and the better I got at it, the smaller the bags became, and then, he started timing me.  I'd have find ten bags in less than an hour—stuff like that.  If I found them all, then he would agree to take me camping.  If I couldn't, then I would have to clean his doujo, top to bottom."

He considered that thoughtfully.  "When I learned how to track, there were no candy bags," he said.  "I was told to locate animals in the grounds around the estate, and I was not allowed to return without the metal tags that they'd affixed to each of them."

"Did you get a reward?"

He grunted.  "No, but Father told me that I'd done well."

She laughed again, shaking her head as though something he said was funny.  When she noticed the questioning look on his face, she waved a hand for a moment, until her amusement died down.  "You say you weren't rewarded, but that sounds like a reward to me," she said.

He blinked, frowned.  He'd never actually thought about it in that sort of way, and yet, what she said rather made sense, didn't it?  He supposed that the pride he'd felt when his father had gazed upon him, the light of approval in his eyes . . . She had a point.  "I . . . well . . ." he allowed.  "I guess so . . ."

 

 

* * *

 

 

"What is he doing?"

Turning her head to glance up at Dmitri as she leaned against a gnarled old tree trunk with her arms crossed over her chest, and she smiled.  "He's teaching them how to track, tai-youkai style."

Dmitri looked on for a long moment before slowly nodding.  "I can see that," he murmured.  "Ivan and Yuri might understand the whole thing, but Galinia?  She has no idea what he's telling them to do."

Waving a hand, Saori wrinkled her nose as a soft giggle slipped from her.  "He knows.  He's just including the young ones to make them feel like the big pups."

"And when they fail?"

Biting her lip, she shook her head.  "I . . . I don't know, but . . . but he said he had an idea."

With a loud clatter, the older children took off into the trees.  Fai stood still, watching as the children disappeared, before turning to face the four younger ones.  He hunkered down and gestured them closer, and from where she stood, she couldn't hear what he said to them.  To her surprise, though, the children all leaned in toward each other, and if she wasn't mistaken, she thought they might well be sniffing each other—an idea that made her press her lips together in a tight line to keep from laughing out loud.

"What are they doing?" Dmitri murmured, more to himself than to her.

A moment later, the children darted away in the opposite direction as Fai pushed himself back to his feet once more.

"What did you tell them?" she asked, pushing herself away from the tree and slowly wandering forward.

Fai slowly turned to glance briefly at her before turning his attention back in the direction where he'd sent the little ones off.  "Three of them are hiding while Boris counts to twenty then goes to find them."

"Hide and Seek?" she mused.  She'd never actually  thought about using that children's game to teach the small ones how to track.  "Is that right?"

"Hide and Seek?" he echoed.  "What's that?"

She smiled.  "It's a game, though we usually considered it cheating if someone tried to sniff out everyone else."

"That would defeat the purpose, don't you think?" Fai echoed dryly.

"That's a really good idea, Your Grace," Dmitri remarked as he drew abreast of them.  "I think I'll go trail the older kids—see if any of them are having any luck."

Saori watched as her friend ambled off, and then she sighed.  "The children like you," she said.

Fai looked surprised for a moment before he gave an offhanded shrug.  "No one likes me.  They either fear me or they want me gone."

She frowned.  She didn't know whether it was worse that he obviously believed it, or, at least, if the almost pragmatic tone of his voice meant anything, he'd accepted the truth in what he thought a long time ago.  "Is that really what you think?"

"It's what I know," he stated, matter-of-factly.  "I've dealt with all of it since I took office."

"Well, I don't fear you, and I don't want you gone, either," she said.

He rolled his eyes.  "You're also not from Russia," he told her.  "You don't count."

"I don't?  Why don't I?"

"I just said why you don't," he retorted.

She wrinkled her nose.  "I count," she insisted.  "Besides, I happen to know that the children don't feel that way, either.  They're too young to care that you're tai-youkai.  All they understand is that you've taken time out to play with them—to teach them."

He uttered a terse little chuckle.  "You make everything sound so simple," he said.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she tilted her head to the side, biting her lip for a moment as she stared at him.  "I don't think so.  I think you . . . You've been alone for a long time, haven't you?"

"Alone?  I've spent the last sixteen years, raising my younger brother.  My home is fully staffed with servants.  I'm not alone . . ." He made a face.  "I haven't _been_ alone in a very long time."

"There's a difference between being around people and having friends," she pointed out gently.  "Don't you have anyone you rely on?  I mean, raising your brother . . . You were kind of like his father, right?  Maybe not in name, but it's the same thing, isn't it?"

Blowing out a deep, heavy breath, he rubbed his forehead, raked his hand through his hair.  She could tell from the rigidity in his stance, from the expression on his face, that he wasn't comfortable in talking about anything so personal.  Still, she had a gut feeling that maybe he needed to do it . . . "I . . . I guess . . . I mean, he's not really a friend, per se.  He's more of an advisor, I guess.  But he was Father's friend—his only real friend . . . When Father disappeared, he . . . He helped me a lot."

She smiled.  "Sounds like a good man."

Nodding slowly, Fai stared at her, absently appreciating the way the spring breeze toyed with the long strands of her hair that had escaped the high ponytail that he'd most of her hair back.  Cheeks kissed with beautiful color, lips parted, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth, she reached out, squeezed his forearm.  It wasn't the first time she'd done so, and, just as before, he stared rather blankly at her delicate hand.  She didn't notice.  It probably didn't even occur to her that she was touching him, but Fai . . .

He couldn't remember the last time anyone had dared to actually do that.  Not even Yerik would have the audacity to do so.  Well, he hadn't since he'd grown up, anyway.  When Yerik was a child, he hadn't thought twice about doing so, but Fai had told himself back then that it was natural for a youngster to require some form of contact.

The staff never had touched him.  Even when serving food, it was always placed on the table, never directly handed to him.  The closest anyone ever came to it was Vasili, who would use a short, stiff bristled brush to swipe at his clothes before he stepped out, if necessary.

No, the only one who had touched him once he'd passed childhood was Faina, and she had no qualms in hugging him or tousling his hair . . . Even the women he'd spent time with hadn't been daring enough to touch him outside of the bedroom, which was just as well, anyway.

So, why didn't Saori realize when she was slipping well past the bounds of propriety?

But why didn't it bother him more . . .?

And why did he rather . . . like it . . .?

 

* * *

 

 

A strange sort of sensation woke Saori from a fitful sleep.  Situated at the threshold of the girls' tent, she leaned up on her elbow, trying to clear her foggy brain as she struggled to figure out just what had roused her.

Blinking as she pushed the tent flap aside, she narrowed her eyes against the brightened glare of the dancing fire.

' _Fai-sama . . . He's still awake . . .?_ '

It seemed to her like it took longer than usual for her eyes to adjust, but she pushed the flap back a little more when she finally noticed the tow-headed girl slip around the log and approach the tai-youkai.  From where she lay, she couldn't hear what was being said—could only see Galinia's shoulders, her face as she stared earnestly up at Fai.  A moment later, Fai slipped his hands under the girl's arms, pulling her into his lap, his usually straight back, hunching forward just slightly as he settled Galinia against his chest.

A sudden, almost savage, urge to get closer gripped her, and without a second thought, Saori slipped out of the tent, moving in closer, though not near enough to disturb the two.  She just wanted to hear what he was saying to the child . . .

"And you had a bad dream?" Fai murmured, his low, rumbling tone so vastly different from the ones she'd heard from him before.

"Yeah," Galinia whispered.  "It was a big bear, and he wanted to . . . to eat me up!"

Fai sighed.  "That is scary," he agreed.  "But you know, don't you?  Nobody here will let anything like that happen to you."

"Because you're tai-youkai?" she asked, sounding hopeful—so hopeful.  Saori felt her hand close around the fabric of her shirt, right over her heart.

"That's . . . That's right," Fai agreed.  "It's my job to keep you safe."

Galinia sighed, and despite the distance, Saori could feel the child's youki relax, little by little.

Fai sat there for a long while, saying nothing at all.  Saori had to wonder if Galinia had fallen asleep again, and after a few minutes, she slowly shuffled forward.

"Is she asleep?" she asked, carefully stepping over the log.

Fai shot her a quick glance—almost a guilty sort of darkness flickering over his expression before he schooled it away.  "Yeah, she is."

Smiling down at the child, sleeping so securely in Fai's arms, Saori brushed her knuckles over Galinia's cherubic cheek.  "I'll put her back to bed.  I hope she didn't disturb you . . ."

"She's fine," he said.  Saori wondered if he even realized that his clasped hands tightened as though to stop Saori from taking her.  "She had a bad dream—a nightmare."

Saori nodded and sat down beside him.  "She does . . . It's not as often anymore.  I usually check on her in the night, just to make sure she doesn't have one."

Fai frowned as he stared down at the sleeping child.  "Yerik used to have nightmares," he ventured at length.  "I never knew if he remembered that night or if he just . . . just remembered being afraid . . ."

"That night?  When your parents . . .?"

"Mother," he corrected.  "The house in Sri Lanka caught fire.  Yerik was two at the time.  She . . . She managed to get him out of the house, but she was trapped inside . . ."

"Fai-sama . . ."

He shook his head, but whether he was trying to stop her or was simply trying to brush aside his own memories, she didn't know.  "I don't remember how long he had nightmares.  I . . . I don't know if he ever still does . . ."

"And you?" she asked quietly.

"Me?"

She nodded.

He sighed.  "I'm all right."

"But you're not," she countered softly as she stared at him.  Something about the pensive expression on his face, the sense of darkness in his gaze, as though he couldn't quite make sense of his own thoughts, his own emotions . . . Had he always felt that sort of confusion?  And he didn't understand it, either.  "You want to be, but you aren't.  It's okay, you know?  Did you . . .?  Did you ever really get to grieve for her?  For them?"

His head snapped to the side, his gaze, wild, almost . . . almost afraid.  The gold and green flecks in his eyes seemed as though they were illuminated by some inner spark, nostrils flaring as he opened and closed his mouth a couple times, suddenly, his cheeks exploded in a mottled hue as he stubbornly looked away from her.

She caught his chin, gently forced him to look at her once more, her brows drawing together in a concentrated scowl.  "You . . . You've had nightmares, too, haven't you?" she whispered, eyes searching his, as though daring him to lie.

He grimaced, his gaze slipping to the side for a moment before reluctantly returning to meet hers once more.  "I'm tai-youkai.  I—"

"You're allowed to have feelings, Fai-sama," she insisted.  "Even you don't have to be strong all the time."

"Don't I?" he challenged.  "If I . . . If I show any weakness—anything—"

"Emotions aren't weakness," she told him.  "Surely, you can't believe that.  Okay, you can't allow yourself to be caught off guard, and I understand that you bear a great responsibility, but—"

He shook his head, his scowl darkening.  "If I cannot stand alone, I cannot stand, at all," he said, the conviction behind his words adding a deepness to his voice, a thickness in his youki.  "I cannot afford to—to break down or to hesitate, simply because I feel . . ." Trailing off with a fleeting grimace, he drew a deep breath.  "I cannot let them see a thing.  I cannot show any of it; not to anyone who might try to use it against me—to exploit it."

"Then show it to me," Saori blurted, letting her hand fall away, but he caught her wrist, held it, and he didn't let go.

She could feel his conflicting emotions as easily as she could feel the blood, racing through her veins.  Those emotions, however, shifted so quickly, so fluidly, that she couldn't read them, couldn't interpret them, but the fire that ignited in the depths of his gaze was enough to make her catch her breath, to hold her, spellbound.

Slowly, his hazel eyes softened, dropped, settling on her lips, and it was enough to set off an ache, a quiver, down so deep that she could feel herself shaking . . . He uttered a strange little sound—not quite a growl, not quite a groan—so very softly that it seemed like he was making it just for her, which was a crazy thought.

A sudden dizziness swept over her as he leaned in closer—so close that she could feel his breath, ripple over her lips, igniting another round of tremors as her body felt as though her very bones were dissolving, one by one . . .

It was a wash of emotion she'd never, ever felt before—an awakening of feelings that she couldn't comprehend, that left her reeling, unsteady.  It was frightening and entirely exhilarating, all at once.

Closer, closer . . . ever so closer, the heat of his mouth, singeing her skin despite the breath of distance that separated them, the inebriating scent of him—of smoke and wilderness, of warmed comfort, an underlying sort of spiciness that tingled in her nose, and his eyes slowly drifting closed, long lashes fluttering down as his stunted breath echoed in her ears . . .

"I'm scared!"

"C'mon!  It'll be fine . . . and you're the one who said you needed to go!"

Letting out a deep sigh as Fai jerked back, head snapping forward despite the high color riding in his cheeks—Saori figured she probably looked about the same—he cleared his throat a few times, and when she finally dared to shift her eyes to look at him, she noticed that his hands were shaking, too.

"Saori . . ." he finally muttered.  "I—"

Saori bit her lip and forced herself to stand up.  Whatever he was about to say, she had a feeling that she didn't want to hear it.  "You know, I think she'll sleep fine now.  Thanks for comforting her," she blurted, reaching down to take Galinia from him, and this time, he let her do it.  "G-Goodnight, Fai-sama."

She heard him sigh as she hurried back toward the girls' tent.  "Goodnight, Saori . . ."

And even after she'd tucked Galinia back into her blankets, even after she'd rolled herself up in her own, she winced.  She could still feel her heart, pounding hard against her ribcage, like a wild thing, struggling to escape.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— WhisperingWolf ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** — — —
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
> … _Damn_ …


	12. 011: Crossfire

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_11_** ~~  
~ ** _Crossfire_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

He didn't know what time it was.

Whether he'd been sitting there, lost in thought for a few minutes or a few hours, he honestly didn't know.  In fact, it really didn't occur to him.  The confusion that delineated his features was stark, heavy, and if he'd asked himself, 'why' once, he'd asked himself a thousand times.

And yet, there were no answers, no hidden truths, whispering to him, waiting for him to hear, waiting for his acknowledgement.

He could blame those blue-gray eyes.  They were just so fathomless, so full of a warmth that she never tried to hide . . . and he knew, didn't he?  He could lose himself in those eyes if he let himself be carried away . . .

He could blame those contours of her face.  Such an interesting study of softness and angles—just enough to gentle her; just enough to lend her an exotic sort of refinement . . . and it drove him to utter distraction, didn't it?  The idea that he had to touch her, to feel her skin, to know if she really was as soft as she looked . . .

He could blame those full, rosy lips.  Shades darker than pink, not quite red, either, ready to smile, to laugh . . . and a single thought was bounding through his head, over and over, wasn't it?  He desperately needed to know what she tasted like—heady like a glass of vodka?  Addictive like a drug . . .?

Frowning down at the metal mug of tea in his hands, Fai noticed in an absent kind of way as the darkened shadows of night started to pale.

He'd been sitting here all night, ever since Saori had made her hasty departure with Galinia.

He still didn't know what had happened.

Well, that wasn't entirely true.  He'd realized early on that the woman was beautiful, of course.  That wasn't it, though.  He'd seen enough beautiful women over the years, and not one of them had ever affected him in the way that she did.

' _You really don't know why?_ '

Letting out a deep breath, Fai's frown deepened into an outright scowl.  ' _She's fascinating, but . . ._ '

' _But there's more to it than simple fascination, you know.  There's something about her, and you feel it, too._ '

For once, he didn't argue with his youkai-voice.  ' _It feels like . . . like I_ know _her—really know her . . ._ '

' _You know, your mother used to believe that souls did know each other and that certain souls were meant to be together._ '

' _I don't remember her saying anything like that._ '

' _She thought it all the time while she was carrying you.  You don't remember; pups never do, but I do.  Back then, the two of you were connected; her thoughts came to me like yours do now.  I couldn't talk to her, but I certainly could hear her . . . Once you were born, I couldn't hear her anymore—at least, not like that.  But you did hear her back then, too, even if you don't remember.  She would talk to you, and you would answer her by moving or flipping over . . . and she knew it.  Mothers do._ '

' _Mother . . ._ '

' _Okay, so tell me, Fai . . . How are we going to keep her here?_ '

Frowning as he shook his head, Fai wasn't entirely sure just who his youkai was talking about.  ' _Who?_ '

His youkai sighed.  ' _Saori, Fai . . . Who else?_ '

He grunted.  ' _You were talking about Mother, weren't you?  And she's already gone, so . . . Stop changing subjects so quickly, and I won't have to ask questions, now will I?  As for Saori . . . I don't think there's any way to keep her here.  I mean, the home has to cut funding; there's no option, and—_ '

' _Not here, as in the home!  Here!  Here, in Russia!_ '

' _There's nothing I can do, short of confiscating her passport, and I can't do that, either._ '

' _Unacceptable, Fai.  She needs to be here with you—with us.  Find something!  Anything!  Just make sure you do it before it's too late._ '

' _Why the urgency?  I mean, I know why I'd like to keep her here, but you?  What does she matter to you?  None of the other women I've met ever mattered to you, and—_ '

' _Oh, you're so damn stupid!  Well, you're smart, but you're stupid, too!  Fine, then, if you want to be obtuse.  She could be everything—_ everything _—and you're willing to just step back, to watch her slip right out of our lives before we ever figure out just how much of 'everything' she really could be._ '

Blinking slowly as he pondered his youkai's words, he sipped the tea without actually tasting it.  ' _Are you trying to say . . .?_ '

The voice sighed a long, draw out sigh, full of resignation, almost sadness.  ' _That's the point, Fai.  I don't know yet.  I don't know, but . . . but maybe . . ._ '

Setting the mug aside, Fai shifted his gaze upward.  The sky so far above the crosshatched branches was a watery gray, mere shades lighter than the wood.  Daylight was coming as the sounds of the morning birds started to rise.

Saori . . .

Contemplating the things his voice had said, Fai shook his head.  He understood what it had meant.  He didn't know just what to think of it, though—whether or not he ought to believe it.

He was still staring at the skies as the sun rose over the horizon.

 

* * *

 

 

"How's your shoulder?"

Letting his right hand fall away as he schooled his features, but he couldn't stop himself from giving his left arm a little shake.  "It's fine," he said gruffly, stubbornly refusing to look at his cousin.  He was hiding pain was something that was inborn, bred bone deep, as his mother was fond of saying.  Brushing that thought aside impatiently, he narrowed his eyes on his injured cousin, seeing right through his waning bravado, before glancing around once more.  He was sure that they weren't being followed, but he couldn't shake the sense of foreboding, either.  "Keep movin' . . . They could be following us," he insisted, his gait taking on a distinct lurch as he smashed a his hand over his shoulder once more.

Nikolai Bershetoyev shook his long and unkempt mane of dingy gray hair, murky dark eyes shifting to the side as his scowl deepened.  "Did you see 'em?  Was it one of those damn Kyranyovitch scum?"

"I don't know.  Didn't see 'em," he said, his voice almost a choked abbreviation, careening to the side, nearly crashing into the stout trunk of a Siberian Larch with an involuntary groan.  Struggling to draw a few deep breaths, Pavel Bershetoyev tried to lever himself away from the tree, but simply didn't have the strength at the moment.  "Just . . . a minute . . ." he rasped out.

Nikolai scowled at his younger cousin before knocking Pavel's hand away from his bleeding shoulder.

They'd been traveling north, heading to one of the family's hunting outposts, when the shot had rang out, the bullet, ripping through Pavel's shoulder.  From what he could see, Pavel's flesh was starting to mend itself.  Still, that kind of a wound was bound to hurt like the devil, and the very sight of it was enough to make Nikolai grind his teeth together as a harsh growl slipped from him.  "Bastards!  Guns!  _Guns!_ " he gritted out, his voice thick with outraged disbelief, his fangs flashing in the mid afternoon sunshine that spilled through the boughs of the trees, so high overhead.

"I'm fine," Pavel insisted, his voice regaining some of his usual candor, sounding much more steady than he looked as he pushed himself away from the tree trunk.  "Let's go."

Scowling at the younger tundra-wolf-youkai, Nikolai slowly shook his head.  "Take it easy," he said, taking note of the almost grayish pallor in Pavel's face, the sweat, beading on his brow.

"Pav, stop . . . At least sit down a few minutes.  Regroup . . . Let me pack your wound."

"It doesn't hurt as much now," Pavel lied.

"You mother will kill me herself if I let you keep going," Nikolai warned.

Heaving a sigh that ended in a grimace, Pavel stopped, eased himself down on a rotting tree stump.  "That was a low blow," he pointed out.

Nikolai yanked off his tattered leather jacket, followed by the threadbare green tee-shirt that he promptly slit up both sides.  Then he took it, carefully wrapped it under Pavel's arm and up over his rent shoulder a few times before tying it off.  Satisfied with his efforts, he shrugged his jacket back on and dug into the inside pocket for a small silver flask that he uncapped and handed over.  "It worked, didn't it?  Drink some of this."

"Thanks," Pavel said, tipping the bottle to his lips.  "That's the worst vodka I've ever had," he complained, handing back the flask with an exaggerated grimace.  "Tastes like turpentine."

Nikolai grunted, mainly because they had actually drank once when they were desperate.  As stupid as that was, at least they'd watered it down.

They'd both been sick for a week.  Nikolai's father, who had found them both, puking their guts up, had lectured them for the entire week on just how stupid that escapade had been . . .

Pavel chuckled weakly, pushing himself back to his feet again.  "Come on . . . We can't stay here."

Nikolai snorted, mostly because he knew that Pavel was right.  If the Kyranyovitches didn't realize that they were here yet, they would soon.  Keeping moving was really the only available option, even if he didn't like it . . .

Pavel shook his head and brushed past Nikolai.  "Gotta get out of this forest," he insisted.  "They'll claim we're trespassing."

"Let them come," Nikolai growled.  Even so, he followed after Pavel.  "They've overstepped themselves this time.  If it's all-out war they want, then that's what they'll have."

 

* * *

 

 

Kneeling beside the flowing river, Saori let out a deep breath as she carefully scrubbed the tin plates they'd brought along for the children.  Satisfied that the one in her hand was clean, she dropped it with a loud clatter onto the stack beside her before reaching for the next dirty plate.

' _Well, aren't you in a mood?  Let me guess: his name starts with, 'Fai', and ends with you, batting your eyelashes and hanging off of his every word like some silly little girl?_ '

Snorting loudly, Saori opted to ignore the voice that invariably got her into trouble, anyway, leaning to the side, using her shoulder to push her hair back out of her face.

' _Ignore me?  Puh-leez!  As if you could!  Anyway, it's your own fault, you know._ '

' _How do you figure?_ '

' _Considering every time he's come anywhere near you today, you've turned tail and ran away?  Yes, it's most definitely your own fault._ '

' _I most certainly did not!_ ' Saori argued.  ' _The children needed me—that's all.  First it was Galinia, then it was Olga . . ._ '

' _Coward.  Since when are you a coward?_ '

' _I'm not being a coward!_ ' she argued.  ' _They_ did _need me.  I can't ignore them, you know, not even for Fai-sama, and—_ '

' _And he wanted to talk to you._ '

Saori made a face as the plate clattered against the stack.  She snatched up the next one, brows drawing together in  marked frown as she focused on scrubbing it clean.  ' _More like he wanted to make excuses for what . . . didn't happen . . ._ '

' _Or maybe he wanted to pick up where you left off.  You'll never know, now, will you?  Silly goose, you just had to turn tail and run, so you can put a nice face on it if you want to, but there is something between the two of you, whether you believe it or not._ '

"Saori."

With a strangled gasp, she shifted around, glanced over her shoulder, cheeks blossoming in embarrassed color as her gaze locked with Fai's.  Stepping out of the trees, he ambled toward her, a marked scowl marring his features, and she turned her back on him, trying to hurry in washing the dishes.  "Fai-sama . . ."

He stopped beside her, standing at a respectable distance, staring out, over the water.  "I get the feeling that you're avoiding me," he said without preamble.  "I'm . . . I'm sorry about . . . about last night.  I didn't . . . It wasn't my intention to—"

"I know," she blurted quickly, unable to staunch the flow of blood that saturated her skin as she stubbornly ducked her head, hoping, praying, that he couldn't see her face.  "It's okay.  It's . . . It's fine . . ."

"That's not—"

Hastily scooping up the clean dishes, Saori shot to her feet and hurried back toward the campsite.  "Really, Fai-sama, it's fine," she insisted, inflicting enough brightness into her tone to hide her acute discomfort—she hoped.  "The . . . The children wanted to play some games, so . . ."

She heard his frustrated sigh, but she kept up her brisk pace, barely able to control her urge to run away from him.  With a gasping squeak, she tightened her grip on the plates when he caught her arm and pulled her back, turned her around to face him—and his very formidable glower that did nothing at all to diminish just how good-looking he really was.

Eyes flashing, the gold flecks almost glowing, he scowled at her, his irritation bordering on outright anger, and she took an involuntary step back in retreat.  "Fai-sama?" she breathed, unsure just why he was so out of sorts.

He snorted.  Loudly.  "We're not done talking," he told her.  "What makes you think—?"

She made a face, quickly shook her head.  "You don't have to apologize," she said.  "I mean, nothing . . . nothing happened, so . . ."

Eyebrows shooting upward, he blinked at her for a moment.  "Nothing . . .?  You call that, 'nothing'?"

Frowning since she didn't really understand just why he sounded almost offended, she shrugged, tugging on her arm that he did not let go.  "It was nothing," she insisted, her gaze slipping away from his.  "Not really, anyway . . ."

Those eyes narrowed dangerously on her, his anger spiraling into something far more dangerous, and he erupted in a low growl.  "Not . . . really . . ." he repeated in an incredulous kind of tone.

"Saori!  Saori!"

Both of them turned to look at the youngster who was crashing through the trees, heading straight for them.  "Yuri?" she questioned as Fai let go of her arm.  "What's the matter?"

The boy shook his head, sparing a few moments to catch his breath.  "It's Sasha!  He fell out of a tree!  His leg looks strange!"

Saori didn't wait to hear more, taking off at a dead sprint as she headed back toward the campsite to retrieve her first aid kit.  No sooner had she dropped the plates back into the wooden box that they were kept in, than Dmitri hurried into camp with the eight year old in his arms.

Sasha was whimpering, but trying not to.  Dmitri sat on the log by the fire, talking in calm, quiet tones to the child.

Grabbing the bright red backpack that Saori kept stocked for emergencies, she ducked out of the girls' tent and hurried over.  "Let me see," she said, dropping to her knees before the child.

It took a few minutes for her to gently work off the boy's shoe and sock.  Sasha did his best, not to move and not to whimper, despite the few little gasps that escaped him.  Surveying the damage, and she grimaced.  Already swollen and bruising, the foot and ankle were straight, though.  "This might hurt a bit," she said, biting her lip as she gingerly took the foot, felt around to examine the bones.  To her relief, she didn't feel anything out of place.  "Can you move your toes?"

He did, his skin of his face, a little peaked, but otherwise okay.

Even so, she dug out her phone, snapped a few pictures from different angles, and sent it off to her second-cousin, who was actually more of an uncle.

A minute later, her phone rang, and she connected the call.   "Oji-chan?  You got those pictures?  It doesn't feel like anything's out of place or broken, but I wanted your opinion."

Kichiro Izayoi's warm voice came through the line.  "Hey, sweetness.  Well, it's impossible to know for sure without x-rays, but from what I can see in the images, it looks like just a really bad sprain.  One of the pups?"

"Yeah," she allowed.  "A sprain?"

"Can he move his toes?"

"Yes, but I don't think he can bear weight on it."

"Not surprising," Kichiro remarked.  "You should be all right in treating it as a sprain, at least for the rest of the day.  If he cannot bear weight on it in the morning or if the swelling gets worse, then I'd seek out a doctor.  Try to immobilize it so that his youkai-blood can heal it faster, but don't wrap it too tightly."

"Okay," she said.  "Thank you."

"Any time, Saori-chan."

The line went dead, and she dropped her phone on the ground as she smiled at the boy, who was eyeing her rather dubiously since he hadn't understood the conversation that she'd just had in Japanese.

Saori let out a deep breath of relief upon seeing the movement.  "Well, it doesn't seem to be broken," she said, reverting to Russian once more.  "If you can move your toes, it's a great sign.  It does look like it's sprained, though, but you should be back to normal in a day or two.  We'll look at it again in the morning, and if it looks worse or you can't stand on it, then we'll take you to a doctor, okay?"

"Okay," Sasha said slowly.  "I don't have to go back yet, do I?"

She laughed since Sasha made no bones about his reluctance to be made to go back home just yet.  Not surprising, given that the boy absolutely loved camping.  Digging out an ankle support and a long bandage, Saori shook her head.  "Not unless your ankle is worse in the morning," she assured him.  "Now, let's get this wrapped up, and you can take it easy for awhile."

It didn't take long to get Sasha's ankle braced and wrapped.  Settling back on her heels, Saori gave her handiwork a critical stare.  "Sasha, if the wrap starts getting uncomfortable, let us know so we can loosen it a little."

Dmitri sighed.  "Do you want to stay here or do you want to go back and watch everyone else?"

Sasha considered that, then craned his neck as he leaned back to look up at Dmitri.  "I want to watch the others!" he said.

Dmitri chuckled, shrugging as he intercepted Saori's amused expression.  "I figured," he said.

"Wait!" Saori exclaimed, digging into the first aid kit once more.  She pulled out a small bottle of ibuprofen and shook out a couple white tablets.  "Take these.  They should help the pain."

Sasha did as he was told, taking a long swallow from his canteen before making an exaggerated face.

Dmitri stood up, still holding on to Sasha.  "Thank you, Saori," he said as he started back toward the path that led a little deeper into the forest.

"Thank you!" Sasha called over Dmitri's shoulder.

"You're welcome," She replied, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest as she watched them disappear into the trees with Yuri on their heels.

"You're a nurse, too?"

Gasping softly as she spun around, only to come, face-to-face with the Asian tai-youkai, who was standing behind her, resting most of his weight on one foot, hands draped on his hips as he gazed at her with a hint of brightness in his eyes.  She blinked, stared.  He almost seemed . . . Amused . . .?

"I . . . I took first aid classes," she explained, shrugging her shoulders, ducking her chin almost nervously.  She wasn't sure why.  There was just something . . . different . . . in his expression . . . something she couldn't quite grasp . . .

He nodded, as though what she'd said made perfect sense.  "So, who did you call?" he asked.  He only sounded curious, which, she supposed, she could understand.

"Oji-chan . . . Well, one of them . . . He's a doctor.  I just figured he could tell me what he thought, and he agreed that it looked like a nasty sprain."  She grimaced.  "It's going to be sore today, but he should be okay in a couple days."

Fai slowly shook his head.  "You have way too many family members," he remarked dryly.

For some reason, that made her giggle.  "You say that like it's a bad thing," she pointed out.

He shrugged.  "I guess that depends on the family," he allowed.

She sighed, letting her arms drop in favor of picking up the first aid kit.  "Mine is pretty large," she admitted.  "Sometimes, it's hard to be a part of it, too . . ."

"How so?"

She forced a smile as she slung the strap over her shoulder.  "Oh, you know . . . Some of them just have left very large shoes to fill," she said.  "It's like . . . being born under the shadow of a great mountain, and no matter how far you reach out, you just can't step out of it and into the sunshine."

He considered that for a long moment responding. "You love your family," he pointed out slowly, almost carefully.

Pushing her hair back behind her ear, she shrugged again.  "I do," she agreed.  "I love them a lot.  It's just sometimes . . . and I feel like they're all so great that I'll never be more than just little Saori-chan . . ."

"You'll be fine," he assured her, his lips curving up in the barest hint of a smile.  "I have every faith that you'll shine brighter than any of them."

She stopped, let her heard fall to the side as she blinked, as she stared at him.  He seemed genuine enough, and maybe he was just trying to make her feel better, but something about the glimmer in his eyes . . .

"I'm going to go help Dmitri with the pups," Fai said as he headed toward the path.

"Okay," she called.  "I'll be right there as soon as I put this away."

She watched him go, a secretive little smile, toying with the corners of her lips.

' _You know, I think he likes you._ '

She couldn't contain the blush that shot into her skin.  ' _Don't be silly,_ ' she chided, pausing long enough to zip the bag closed.  ' _He was . . . He was just being kind . . ._ '

' _That was not being kind, Saori.  That was a man who truly believes what he said._ '

' _Yep, fascinating like a science experiment,_ ' she thought darkly.  ' _Once he goes back home, he won't think about me, ever again, and . . . and he'll just be a really nice memory for me._ '

' _Is that what you think?  You're being uncharacteristically pessimistic._ '

' _It's not pessimism.  It's realism.  I mean, I may not be the ugliest girl out there, but it's not like I'm anything special, either, and Fai-sama . . . He's extraordinary . . ._ '

' _Says you.  You know, you're just as pretty as anyone else—prettier, even—and besides, it's not like everyone bases that much stock in physical appearances._ '

' _Yeah, except there has to be a physical attraction there or it won't matter, anyway._ '

' _And you don't think there is?_ '

' _For me, maybe.  For him?_ ' she sighed.

' _I think you're out of your—What's that?_ '

Head snapping up as her brain registered what her youkai had noticed, she narrowed her eyes as she slowly scanned the trees on the far side of the clearing.  The wind had shifted, blowing the stranger's scent straight to her, and she thought she saw a flicker of movement.   She started forward, only to stop when a young man—maybe a couple years older than she—a wolf-youkai—stepped out of the forest.

His gaze was wild, almost panicked, scanning the area quickly until he lit on her, and he stopped short.  "You . . . You can help me!"

Saori blinked as the man strode over to her and grabbed her by the wrist.  "Wait!  Who are—?"

"Move," he growled, dragging her into the trees.

She yanked on her arm, to no avail.  The wolf was stronger than he looked, and he held onto her with a death-grip.  Uttering a harsh scream, she choked when he let go of her, only to yank her toward him, catching her around the waist uncomfortably tightly, his free hand clamping over her mouth as he hefted her off her feet and started to run . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** — — —
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— monsterkittie
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lovethedogs ——— lianned88
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _Who is he …_?


	13. 012: Plotting

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_12_** ~~  
~ ** _Plotting_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Fai skidded to a stop in the center of the camp near the fire pit, scowling as he scanned the area.

"Saori!" he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound.

She hadn't come to find them after putting up the first aid bag, as she said she was going to.  After waiting almost an hour, he'd come back to see what was holding her up, but she was nowhere to be seen . . .

' _Damn it . . ._ '

Lifting his chin, sniffing the air, Fai's frown deepened.

' _She's nowhere nearby,_ ' his youkai-voice said.

Scowl darkening since he'd already figured out as much, he strode forward, drawing in lungfuls of breath as he struggled to find any lingering trace of her scent.

Where the hell was she?

"Did you find her?"

Glancing over his shoulder when Dmitri and the children wandered back into the camp, Fai shook his head.  "No."

Dmitri wandered over to him, draping his hands on his hips as he, too, slowly looked around.  "It's not like her to just disappear," he said as though Fai hadn't already realized as much.  Then he sighed.  "I'm sure she's around.  Maybe she just needed a little bit of time to herself."

Fai snorted loudly.  Even if that were the case, she'd been gone too long, hadn't she?  "It doesn't feel right," he insisted, slowly shaking his head.  "I can't sense her anywhere near."

"You can feel her presence?"

"Not now, I can't," Fai growled.  "Damn it . . ."

"Your Grace—"

A subtle shift in the wind made his eyes flare wide, made him stop where he stood for only a moment before dashing off in that direction.  "I'm going to go look for her," he called back over his shoulder.  "Take the pups back to the home!"

Dmitri hollered after him, but he didn't really hear or care as he bounded off toward the trees.

' _Saori . . . Where are you . . .?_ '

Her scent led him into the trees, accompanied by the scent of a stranger—someone he didn't recognize.  Erupting in a low growl, he trailed them deeper into the forest, a sense of cloying urgency wrapping around his stomach as he tried to hurry without losing the trail.  He didn't know where she was, and he didn't know how long of a head start they had, but he knew—knew—that she wouldn't have just taken off, wouldn't have gone anywhere without telling someone.  If nothing else, she never would have been careless enough to just up and abandon the children in her care.

But why would someone have taken off with her?  The home was poor, the children didn't come from families of any real means.  It wouldn't be worth it for anyone to try to gain anything from kidnapping anyone associated with it . . .

' _As if anyone would need a reason to grab her,_ ' his youkai scoffed.  ' _She's smart, she's gorgeous, she's funny, she's quirky . . . What more reason do they need . . .?_ '

' _I'll kill them,_ ' he growled to himself.  ' _If they so much as touch a hair on her head, I'll—_ '

"Fai!"

Stopping dead in his tracks, Fai whipped around, eyes flaring wide as Yerik stepped out of the trees to the left.  The younger Demyanov looked almost as shocked as Fai was as he hurried over, throwing his arms around his brother.  "Y-Yerik?"

Yerik finally stepped back, giving Fai a very thorough once-over as he slowly shook his head.  "I've been looking for you!" Yerik exclaimed.  "Who took you?  Where is she?"

"She?  You know about her?" Fai asked, ignoring Yerik's question.

Yerik snorted.  "A couple of convenience stores I stopped in . . . Some of the staff remembered you and said you were with a woman.  So, who is she?"

Fai gritted his teeth at the reminder of what he had just been doing.  "We've got to find her," he said, turning on his heel, setting off after the stranger's scent—after Saori's scent—once more.

"Find who?" Yerik demanded, falling into step beside Fai.  "We've got to get you home.  You've been missing for—"

"They took Saori," Fai growled, quickening his pace.  "I don't know who, but when I figure it out, they're going to die . . ."

"Die?  They?  What are you talking about?" Yerik demanded.  "Who's Saori?"

"She's the one who kidnapped me," Fai snapped, veering off to the right.  "This way!  Move it, Yerik!"

"Okay, but if this Saori kidnapped you, then why do you want to save her?  How do you know she didn't take off willingly with whoever she's with?  What makes you think—?"

"She didn't really kidnap me," he corrected, the air of exasperation thick in his tone.  "More like . . . she _appropriated_ me."

He could feel Yerik's probing gaze, but he didn't turn to verify it.  "She . . . _what?_ "

Waving a hand, Fai kept moving.  "Never mind," he grumbled.  "Anyway, she'd never have taken off with anyone else without telling someone first, no matter who it was."

"Why are you defending some crazed woman who kidnap—Fai?"

"What?"

". . . _How_ did she kidnap you?"

Fai grunted.  "It was a misunderstanding," he said.  "She knocked me out with the van door, and then—"

"Knocked you out?  And just how did she manage that?"

"Way to get stuck on the details," Fai grumbled.

Yerik snorted.  "Okay, so, you want to go in and rescue the same woman who kidnapped you—"

"Appropriated."

Yerik rolled his eyes.  " _Kidnapped_ you, and then, what?"

That earned him a rather droll scowl, as though he ought to know the answer to that question.  "And then, I'll kill whoever thought to take her, in the first place."

"Fai . . ."

"Move it, Yerik!  More running, less talking," Fai blasted.

To his relief, his brother actually complied that time.  Weaving through the trees, Fai concentrated on Saori's scent.  ' _She'd better be all right when I get there,_ ' he thought as he pushed himself faster.  ' _If she isn't . . ._ '

Scowl darkening as he ground his teeth together, his body a blur of motion, he couldn't control the rage that built, higher and thicker, inside.  If they'd hurt her . . .?

' _I'll kill them,_ ' he thought.  ' _Dead._ '

 

* * *

 

 

"I think that'll do it," Saori said as she peeled off the rubber gloves and pushed her bangs back out of her face.

"And he'll be all right?" Nikolai asked, peering over her shoulder at his unconscious cousin.

She nodded.  "The problem was that a bit of the bullet had chipped off and lodged itself against the vein, so his body wasn't able to properly close the wound until it was cleaned out, so, that's why he was bleeding so much for so long.  I was able to remove it, so he should be fine now."

Nikolai didn't look entirely convinced, but he did appear to be a little more calm than he had been.

Rubbing her forehead, she sighed when her cell phone chimed.  She wasn't surprised to see the text from her uncle, asking her if everything was okay.  He had suggested looking for debris that was inhibiting the healing process—anything that didn't look like it belonged there.  Between video chatting, pictures, Kichiro-oji-chan's explanations, and a couple Google searches, she'd been able to clean the wound properly.  Now, it was up to Pavel's body to regenerate the blood he'd lost and to close the damaged flesh.

She took a minute to text him back, to let him know that it all looked good, before slipping the device into her pocket once more before changing out the gauze pad that she'd covered Pavel's shoulder with.  She hadn't taped it into place, though, since she wanted to allow the wound to drain a bit first . . .

Satisfied that he was set, at least for the moment, she turned to face Nikolai with a frown.  "Do you know who shot him?" she asked.  It was the first time she'd had a chance to do so since he'd explained everything and had brought her here to treat his cousin.

Nikolai dug a beaten-up silver flask from his pocket and downed a healthy swallow before offering it to her.  "Who else?  Those Kyranyovitch bastards; that's who.  Stooping to using guns . . ."

"The Kyranyovitches?  And you two are Bershetoyevs . . . "

Nikolai nodded.  "They will pay for this.  If they want an all-out war, then that's what they'll get."

She frowned since she distinctly remembered Fai mentioning that the two didn't use guns at all . . .

Nikolai jiggled the flask in her direction.

She started to raise a hand to wave him off, but thought better of it.  Tipping the flask, she choked and sputtered, shoving it back at him as she wiped her mouth with the back of her free hand.  "That's not good," she rasped out, slapping her hand against her chest a few times to chase the liquor down.

"Sorry," he said, though he didn't actually sound sorry, at all. 

Saori stared at him for several moments before reaching out, plucking the flask out of Nikolai's slack grip.  This time, however, she carefully poured a good shot of it into the wound, ignoring the wolf-youkai's protests.  Then she handed it back and frowned as she repacked the area.

"I thought that your feud never involved guns," she said, pushing herself back to her feet, dusting off her hands as she turned her attention to Nikolai once more.

"It never has before," he said, rubbing his hands over his face.  "Things have been worse lately, though, so maybe it was just a matter of time . . ."

"Worse?" she echoed, frowning as she crossed her arms over her chest.  "How so?"

He shot her a dark scowl.  "None of your business," he replied curtly.  "Thank you for helping Pavel, but you're an outsider."

She nodded.  She supposed she could understand that well enough.  Though her family tended to be pretty open with information, there were things—certain things—that no one really talked about.  It wasn't that they were forbidden, per se, just kind of avoided simply because of the subject matter.

Flipping her wrist to check her watch, she stifled a sigh as she looked around, scanning the area carefully.  They were near a tall rock cliff—sort of a makeshift shelter—where Nikolai had told her he'd left Pavel when the younger wolf couldn't go on.  Then he'd set out to try to find some help, but it was just plain, dumb luck that had led him to their campsite.  He'd seen her treat Sasha's ankle, and that was why he'd brought her here.

' _Yeah, well, that aside, we need to think about getting out of here.  They're probably all looking for you now, and no one knows where you are or that you were abducted, in the first place._ '

Saori made a face.  ' _I wasn't abducted, really . . . It's just that he didn't have time to stop and explain everything beforehand; that's all._ '

' _No, Saori, you were most certainly abducted or do you not remember him, hefting you off your feet, covering your mouth, and racing away with you?_ '

' _He wasn't trying to harm me,_ ' she argued evenly.  ' _He was just concerned about his cousin, and that's actually pretty admirable._ '

Which was true.  He'd told her what he needed as he'd sped with her through the forest, but he must have thought that he could move faster than her because he didn't bother to set her down until they were back at the place where Pavel was resting.

Now that the immediate danger had passed, however, she had to get back, and soon—if they hadn't already realized she was missing, and that was a very good possibility.

"If I leave you with gauze and stuff, can you change out the dressing in a couple hours?  I really need to get back, and—"

"Can't you stay here till then?" Nikolai asked, turning his formidable scowl on her once more.  "What if he starts bleeding again?  What if—?"

"He's fine now," Saori said calmly.  He should wake up soon.  My uncle said that he's unconscious now to let his body heal, to let it regenerate itself.  When he wakes up, make sure he drinks water, maybe find something for him to eat."

She started to turn, to leave, but Nikolai caught her arm and yanked her back.  "You're not leaving until he wakes up—until I know that he's okay."

Saori bit her lip, stared at his hand, wrapped around her wrist, and she stifled a sigh.  Sure, she could probably get away from him without too much of a problem.  Too bad she understood completely, just how worried he was about his cousin.  Digging her phone out of her pocket once more, she fired a text off to Dmitri, explaining where she was and that she'd be back soon . . .

 

* * *

 

 

"The Bershetoyevs!" Fai growled, starting to shoot to his feet from where he and Yerik were hunkered down behind a hedge of bushes where they'd opted to observe the situation for a few minutes.  They were far enough away that they were avoiding drawing any notice thus far, and it appeared to be calm enough.  Even so, when the wolf-youkai reached out, yanked Saori back over to him again, it was all he could do to not bust right on in and knock the errant man right onto his ass for it.

' _Entirely untrue, Fai.  You wanted to bust on in there, all guns blazing.  Yerik, however, seems to be in possession of far more brains than you are, at the moment._ '

' _. . . Shut up._ '

His youkai snorted in answer.

Yerik grabbed Fai's arm and yanked him back down once more, pinning his brother with a darkened scowl.  "What are you doing?  You can't just go, charging in there yet.  We need to make sure there's no more of them first—need to be sure what we're up against."

"What do you mean?  It's a couple of those damned Bershetoyevs—that's who we're up against!" Fai hissed.

Yerik rolled his eyes, shook his head.  "Since when do you do anything this hastily?" he countered.  "Just what's gotten into you, Fai?"

Fai glowered at his brother, ready to snap at him.  "You know, Yerik, the only reason you're with me right now is—"

"Calm down," Yerik hissed, sparing a glance at the people they were trying to hide from.  Suddenly, though, he shook his head.  "I can't see how that little girl kidnapped you."

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Fai grunted.  "I told you, she walloped me with the van hatch, and when I was unconscious, she loaded me into the rickety old van and took off—Did you see the van on your way here?  A white one—a white one covered in rust."

"Can't say I did," Yerik replied.  "So, she smacked you with the van door?  Okay, but why are you still with her, then?  And she needs to be behind bars, not running around, scot-free, and certainly not being rescued by the tai-youkai . . ."

"She just wanted me to come here, to meet the children.  She wanted to convince me not to defund the orphanage."

"You're going to defund the orphanage?  _Mother's_ orphanage?  Fai—"

"Not anymore, I'm not," Fai growled.  "They're going to reduce staff, and . . . and I'm going to look into trying to find placements for any of the children that I can.  Anyway, she was never intending to hurt me."

"So, as long as someone isn't intending harm, then it's all fine?" Yerik challenged.

"Leave it alone, Yerik," Fai stated.  "I'm going to go get her back."

"Wait!" Yerik hissed, yanking Fai back once more.  "Let's at least take a minute to check the perimeter—make sure there's no one else out here before we go in there."

Fai didn't look like he wanted to agree.  Finally, though, he rolled his eyes and nodded curtly.  "I'll go this way.  You go that way.  We'll meet up on that cliff," he said, pointing to indicate the rock formation behind Saori and the Bershetoyevs.

Skirting the central area, Fai ground his teeth together as he carefully vaulted into a high tree to better scan the area.

He sighed.  As far as he could tell—as far as he could sense, there were only the two Bershetoyevs and Saori.  From his vantage point, however, he could see the one, stretched out on the ground, apparently unconscious.  Beside him stood the huge red canvas bag—Saori's first aid kit.  The other Bershetoyev was stalking around restlessly, and even across the distance, he could sense the man's nerves, his upset.

And he could smell blood.

It wasn't fresh blood, and it wasn't Saori's.  It was, however, enough to give him pause as he narrowed his gaze, trying to make sense of just what was going on.

Launching himself to the next tree, he made himself keep moving.  The only real way that he was going to get any answers was to confront them . . .

It didn't take long to finish sweeping his half of the area, but even so, Yerik was already waiting for him at the base of the rock formation, and Fai grimaced as he dropped to the ground.  "Well?"

Yerik shrugged.  "No one.  I take it your side was the same?"

Fai grunted.  "Let's go."

"Wait," Yerik said, grabbing Fai's shoulder before the tai-youkai could make his way to the top of the cliff.

"What?"

Yerik frowned.  "Tell me why you're so anxious to rescue this woman."

"We don't have time to—"

"She's fine at the moment.  That guy doesn't seem at all interested in hurting her," Yerik pointed out calmly, crossing his arms over his chest to emphasize his point.  "We've got time for you to answer me."

Scowling at his brother in such a way that would usually dissuade pursuance of the topic at hand with anyone else, Fai stifled a frustrated growl.  Yerik was the only being alive who would dare to ask him something like that, and there was a good chance that the younger Demyanov knew it, too.  "I . . . I don't know," he admitted, raking his hands through his hair as he glowered at his sibling.

For some reason, Yerik didn't actually look surprised.  "I see."

"You see?  What do you see?" Fai challenged.

Yerik didn't smile, but he looked like he might be tempted, and he flicked a hand in blatant dismissal.  "Okay, Fai.  Let's go save your Saori."

"All right.  Now, I think—She's not _'my'_ anything," he growled, narrowing his glower on his brother.

Yerik did smile.  "I apologize, Fai."

Rolling his eyes since Yerik actually sounded like he was just humoring Fai, the tai-youkai ignored him as he scaled the rocks and scooted closer to the edge, peering down at the unsuspecting people below.

By the time Yerik edged in beside him, Fai had decided that the best course might well be to drop down between the pacing youkai and the one who still seemed to be unconscious.  "You drop over there," Fai said in a whisper as he leaned toward Yerik and pointed.  "I'll go there, and if that one attacks, you grab Saori and get back.  Understand?"

Yerik looked like he wanted to argue, but Fai wasn't waiting to debate the plan.  A moment later, both of them hopped down, lighting on the ground, moments before Saori's soft gasp echoed in the woods.

"Fai-sama?"

He shot her a look that really ought to have quelled her overall enthusiasm.  It didn't.  with a sharp yelp, she literally threw herself into his arms.

Bershetoyev growled and lunged at him.  Fai started to spin to the side, away from the wolf's outstretched claws, but Yerik was faster, shooting forward, grasping the youkai's arm, yanking him forward as his arm stretched out, snapping him in the center of the chest, sending the wolf's body flying back, only to smack hard into the base of a thick fir tree that shuddered and groaned.  The impact knocked out Bershetoyev, and he crumpled to the ground with a sudden whoosh of breath.

Saori gasped, her arms dropping away from Fai as she spun on her heel to run over to the fallen wolf.  Fai caught her hand and held her back as she spared him a chagrined sort of scowl.   "He hurt him!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"Yeah, and he meant to," Fai growled back, late fear, all the worry he'd felt in the last few hours, erupting in a menacing display.  "What the hell are you doing here, Saori?"

"His cousin was shot," she blasted back.  "He needed help!  That's all!  And now—"

"He was trying to attack the tai-youkai," Yerik stated.  "I don't think—"

"And just who are you?" she snarled, head snapping to the side as she pinned Yerik with a very fierce glower.

Yerik wasn't impressed.  "Yerik Demyanov," he said.  "You're the one who kidnapped my brother?"

" _Appropriated_ ," both she and Fai snapped in unison.  Saori's eyebrows shot up as she shifted her gaze back to Fai once more.  Fai, for the most part, just grunted and stared at the fallen wolf who still had yet to move.

Yerik rolled his eyes.  "Whatever you want to call it," he grumbled as he stomped past them to check on the wolf.

"He wanted me to help his cousin," she repeated with a sigh.  "He was shot, like I said.  He saw me treat Sasha, so he thought I could help."

"And you didn't have time to let me know this?" Fai growled.

"Well, it kind of happened pretty fast, and he didn't really ask so much as demand . . ."

"He kidnapped you?" Fai demanded.

Saori made a face.  "Not really," she said.  "I mean, he was just worried about his brother, and I would have helped, either way . . ."

"You really don't have any commons sense at all, do you?  I told you this area was dangerous.  I told you what was going on around here, and you just go, wandering off with some stranger that you don't even know from Adam, and then—"

"Well, I didn't actually know you from Adam to start with," she pointed out.

He wasn't in the mood for her flip answers, and the narrowed-eyed look he gave her should have told her as much.  The infuriating woman smiled at him instead.  "We're getting out of here.  Yerik!"

"Wait," she blurted, tugging against his hold when he started to stomp away.

"What for?"

She grimaced.  "Nikolai wanted me to change Pavel's bandaging," she said.  "Just let me—"

"Absolutely not," Fai growled, yanking her back when she tried to head toward the still-unconscious one—Pavel, he guessed.

"It'll just take a minute, and—"

"And I said no!" he thundered.

She gasped, her mouth snapping closed as her eyes flared wide, and just for a moment, she seemed almost— _almost_ —frightened of him, and he gritted his teeth.  Hard.

"Just let me check him once more," she said, her tone losing much of the intensity that she'd had as she slowly shook her head, as she cast him what could only be described as an imploring kind of look.  "Please."

Against his better judgment, he let go of her, though he did follow her over to the fallen youkai.  She made quick work of changing his bandages, in cleaning the wound that looked like it was closing up well enough, and she nodded to herself as she cleaned and redressed it.  When she finished that, she took the bag, started to head past him to check on the other, he supposed.  He caught her hand and stopped her.  "He tried to attack me.  He can deal with the headache," Fai insisted.

She looked like she wanted to argue with him, but Yerik strode over before she could.  "He's fine.  He's breathing.  He'll wake up soon enough."

Fai intercepted Saori's look and shook his head.  "You heard him.  He'll be fine.  Now we're getting out of here, so move."

She uttered a sound that was caught somewhere between a growl and a sigh, but she fell into step beside him.

"How did you get out here?" Fai asked over her head.

Yerik dragged his questioning gaze off of Saori to meet his brother's eyes.  "I drove.  The car's not far from here."

"Good," Fai said.

They continued along in silence for awhile, each of them trying to look at one another without being blatantly obvious about it.  Fai intercepted a few rather confused looks from Yerik, but he narrowed his eyes to discourage whatever his brother wanted to say, and this time, it mercifully worked, too, since the very last thing he wanted was to be inundated by the questions that he knew would be forthcoming sooner or later.

"You . . . You came to rescue me . . .?" Saori murmured softly, without looking up at him, breaking the uncomfortable quiet that had fallen.  Fai still held onto her hand, but she didn't seem to notice any more than he did.

"Of course, I did," he said with a sigh.  "You didn't think I would?"

She shrugged.  "I didn't know," she admitted.  "I'm sorry to have put you to that trouble.  I would have come back when I was finished, though.  They . . . They weren't actually dangerous . . ."

"They could have been," Fai told her, but his tone had lost much of his prior irritation.  "You could have been in danger—especially you."

"Why me?"

Fai snorted, and just for a moment, he forgot that his brother was walking along beside them.  "You're a beautiful woman, Saori.  That's more than reason enough."

He heard her gasp, but thought nothing of it, increasing his gait as they made their way through the woods . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_IMPORTANT_**!
> 
>  _I'm going to stop posting for now till the beginning of 2018, first so I can work on a one shot I HOPE to have done by Christmas, and secondly so that I can enjoy the holidays with my family. God bless you all, and I hope to see you back in 2018_!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** — — —
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— Okmeamithinknow
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lianned88
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Yerik_** :  
> … _Wha-a-a-a-at_ …?


	14. 013: Goodbyes

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_13_** ~~  
~ ** _Goodbyes_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

" _You're a beautiful woman, Saori.  That's more than reason enough_."

Lying in bed, staring at the cracked and discolored ceiling in the half-dark, Saori let out a deep breath as those words—Fai's words—tumbled around in her head.

What did he mean by that?

' _Well, Saori-chan, I'd say that it's simple enough.  It means that he thinks you're beautiful._ '

Her youkai-voice's observation made her scowl darken.  ' _But . . . But he said it so nonchalantly . . . like he was talking about the weather or . . . or something . . ._ '

' _But he did say it, and that means something.  You don't just randomly say that about someone unless you actually think so._ '

Saori wasn't so convinced.  After all, she'd spent a good hour, staring in a mirror after she'd taken a long shower.  She hadn't seen a thing that she would have put into the category of 'beautiful', anyway . . .

' _That's just because you look at yourself every single day and have since you were old enough to realize that your reflection was your reflection.  You see what you see, and it's easy to think that it it's ordinary.  It'd be a little weird if you actually realized how you might look to someone else_.'

' _If that were true, then why didn't guys pay attention to me . . . well, ever . . .?_ ' she challenged.

' _Maybe they did, and you just never noticed, Saori._ '

She made a face, yanking the thin blanket up under her chin.  ' _Oh, I think I would have noticed on all those Saturday nights, spent at home, doing nothing . . ._ '

Her youkai-voice snorted in a very unladylike manner.  ' _Except you weren't ever at home, alone, doing nothing on Saturday nights.  There was always something going on, and that's what you were doing._ '

All right, so there was some truth in that.  Life was never really boring around her family, that was for sure.  Even so . . .

' _Anyway, plenty of guys looked at you.  Thing was, none of them were worth your time, so it seemed kind of pointless to waste time on them._ '

Saori heaved a sigh.  She wasn't entirely sure she agreed with her voice, after all.  Maybe if she'd had one or two boyfriends along the way, even if they weren't 'The One', then she wouldn't feel so awkward sometimes, would she?

The buzz of her cell phone, rattling against the nightstand, drew her attention, and she grabbed it before it worked itself onto the floor.  Seeing the name on the caller ID, she bit her lip, debated for all of a moment, whether or not she should answer it, but in the end, she connected the call and lifted the phone to her head.  "Nii-chan," she greeted, hoping he couldn't hear anything amiss in her tone of voice.  "Is everything okay?  It's a little late . . ."

Rinji grunted.  "I hadn't heard from you in a week?  More?  So, I figured I'd better find out if you were in jail or something . . ."

She grimaced.  "Nope, no jail," she told him.  "I will be coming home soon, though . . ."

"Oh?"

Saori sat up with a sigh, her attempt at light banter falling away in an instant.  "I'm losing my job," she finally admitted.  "Fai-sama is going to allow the home to stay open, but in order to do so, they have to cut some of the staff, and since I was the last one to be hired . . ."

"Is this some kind of retaliation for the kidnapping?"

"No, and I didn't kidnap him—I _appropriated_ him," she insisted quickly, only to frown for a long moment.  "Well, I don't think so, anyway . . ."

"You . . .?  Just what the hell does that mean?" Rinji growled.

"It means that I suggested—strongly—that he come meet the children, is all," she said.  "Anyway, it has nothing to do with it—I don't think . . . No, if Fai-sama wanted me fired, he would have just said so.  He's too honorable to do something devious like that."

"And how would you know that, Saori?" Rinji challenged.  "You barely know him—hell, as far as I can tell, _no one_ really knows him.  Gives ojii-sama a run for his money in the stoic department from what I hear."

"He's not like that at all," Saori argued.  "He's just . . . I mean, once you get to know him?  He's . . . He's very warm, very . . . Well, I don't think 'sweet' is a good way to describe him, but he's . . ."

Rinji didn't say anything for a minute, but he did heave a very long, very loud sigh.  "Saori . . ."

"I met his brother, too—well, not really."  She made a face.  "I met him, of course.  He showed up after I was kidnapped by this wolf-youkai to treat his cousin who was shot, and—"

"What?  Wait, what?"

"It wasn't exactly a kidnapping," Saori explained.  "He was just too worried about his cousin that he explained it after he grabbed me, is all . . ."

"He—? Really."

"Nii-san . . ."

Rinji grunted.  "All right; all right. You're okay, obviously, so . . ." He trailed off with a sigh.  "So, do you know when we should expect you home?"

She giggled suddenly, refusing to feel bad, or at least, refusing to let her brother see how bad she felt about the idea of being let go.  "Soon," she replied, inflicting enough happiness in her tone to keep Rinji from seeing right through it.  "Probably in the next week or so?  I guess, anyway."

"That quickly?"

Rubbing her forehead, she bit her lip.  "They need to keep their funding," she replied.  "It's a good thing—a _great_ thing," she blurted, focusing on the silver lining.

Rinji blew out a deep breath, and she heard the clink of ice cubes in a glass.  "Give me a call and let me know when you're coming back then," he told her.  "And kaa-san says to give her a call soon.  She misses hearing your voice."

Saori grimaced since she hadn't called her mother in a few weeks.  It wasn't intentional, no, but she hadn't gotten a chance to since she'd gotten back from appropriating Fai . . . "I will," she promised.  "Tell kaa-chan and tou-chan that I miss them, too."

"Will do," he said.  "I'll tell them that you're coming home soon."

"Oh, no, don't!"

"Why not?"

She giggled again.  "I kind of want to surprise them."

He sighed.  "If that's what you want.  Talk to you later."

The line went dead, and Saori's smile faded.  She let the phone fall onto the coverlet beside her as she leaned forward, wrapped her arms around her raised knees.  Everything about this room was humble, just like the rest of the facility.  The floors creaked, the paint was chipped, the furnishings were cheap and falling apart, and yet, the warmth that permeated every inch of the place touched her—something she would miss like crazy . . . She might well get a better paying job, might work at a nicer place, but she had a feeling that she'd never experience the same sense, no matter where she ended up . . .

' _It's more than that, Saori . . . What about Fai-sama?_ '

Brows drawing together as she pondered her youkai's question, she scrunched up her shoulders.  ' _Fai-sama . . ._ '

A strange sort of chill ran up her spine, and she rubbed her arms.

She didn't know why she felt that way . . . or did she . . .?

 

* * *

 

 

Fai stared at the flames, dancing on the hearth.  He'd lit it more out of the need to do something than anything else since it wasn't really cold tonight.  Settling on the end of the creaky bed, he frowned.

Why was he feeling so entirely unsettled?

' _Don't answer that._ '

' _Why not?  Why don't you want to think about why you might feel that way?_ '

Fai's scowl darkened, the firelight pooling in his eyes, lending them a flash, a glow . . . ' _What am I supposed to say when I have no idea?_ '

' _Do you think Saori's sleeping?_ '

Glancing at the small travel clock on the nightstand, Fai let out a deep breath as he stood up, as he wandered over to the smudged window.  It wasn't dirty, no, but it was so old that the glass was starting to take on that milky sort of sheen around the edges—the kind that would never wash away, no matter how vigorously it was scrubbed.  ' _It's almost midnight . . . She's got to be sleeping already_ . . .'

' _I don't know.  Maybe she's not.  Besides, I think Yerik was wanting to leave in the morning, so if that's the case . . ._ '

That thought was enough make him pivot on his heel, to stalk over to the door.  He was just reaching out to grab the knob when a curt knock drew him up short, and he made a face.  "Come," he called, sensing Yerik's youki through the thin wood, altering his course as he strode back to the end of the bed once more.

The door squeaked, groaned, as his brother slipped into the room and closed the door behind himself while Fai sank down again.  "The area seems secure.  I took the liberty of running it, just to make sure.  Everything should be fine, and I gave Director Bostoyev my cell number in case he cannot reach you . . . We can leave in the morning."

Fai leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, tapping his fingertips together slowly, methodically.

"Fai . . .?  Fai . . .?"

"What's that?" Fai said, blinking as he slowly turned his face, just far enough to peer up at Yerik.

Yerik's emerald green eyes narrowed as he gave his head a slight shake.  "Fai, what's gotten into you?  Ever since I found you, you've been acting . . . different."

"Different?  How so?"

"You tell me."

"Don't know what you're talking about," Fai grumbled, wishing for the world that he had a shot of vodka—anything—that might take the edge off of the unrest that was plaguing him.  Unfortunately, the only thing here was maybe kvass, and that didn't have enough alcoholic content to do a damn thing.

"Oh, don't you?  What is it about Saori that has gotten to you so badly?  You're sarcastic, grouchy, short-tempered, impatient . . . You're never like this."

Fai snorted.  "Nothing at all," he forced himself to say.

Yerik shook his head.  "Fai, you know, I—"

"You did well," Fai interrupted, partly to shut Yerik up, partly because it was the truth.

"I did?" Yerik echoed, golden eyebrows disappearing under the thick fringe of his bangs.

Fai nodded.  "You did," he allowed.  "You tracked me down without any real leads, found me in the forest . . . took care of the wolf-youkai . . . You did very well, actually."

For a moment, Yerik seemed surprised by the praise.  Then he broke into a somewhat embarrassed sort of lopsided smile.  "Thank you, Fai."

"You're welcome."

Yerik paced the floor a few times.  Fai could almost hear the gears, turning in his mind, and he braced himself for what he knew was coming, but he'd opened the door, so to speak . . . "Good enough to be a hunter?"

' _And there it is, Fai . . ._ '

"We'll see," Fai replied entirely noncommittally.  "You're only eighteen, Yerik.  Finish the university first, then we'll talk about it."

Yerik stared at him.  "That's just your way of trying to put me off," he said.  "What's the point of finishing the university if I have no interest in anything but hunting?"

Fai sighed.  "It's something Father never would have wanted you to do."

"Yeah, well, Father's not here, and you aren't him.  I'm not saying that to be an ass, Fai.  It's just that you don't get to tell me what I am or am not qualified to do.  It’s my life, and I want to do this.  I . . . I _need_ to do this."

“I just . . . Let me think about it,” Fai replied.

Yerik didn’t look at all pleased about it, but he gave one jerky, curt nod.  “I’m not a child, Fai,” he said quietly.  “I know that you worry, but if I didn’t think I could do it, I never would have brought it up.  It’s not something I just decided on a whim.  I’ve thought about it for years—years . . .”

“I know,” Fai admitted with a scowl, with a grumble.  “You’re not given to being impetuous.”

“No, I’m not.  It’s just this feeling—this . . . Well, I suppose you could say that it just feels like a compulsion.  I know it’s not a pleasant job or one that most would ever want.  You are Father’s son—born and raised to be tai-youkai.  I’m not, but I feel this . . . this need to help you protect the legacy that Father and his father before him created, and if I can do that—if I can make your burden just a little easier to bear . . .”

“But it’s not your problem, Yerik,” Fai insisted, knowing deep down that his brother’s mind was already made up.  “If I somehow gave you the impression that I expected you to do anything that you don’t want to do—”

“It wasn’t you,” Yerik said.  “I mean, I guess it was to an extent, but it really wasn’t anything you ever said or did.  It was . . . It was years of watching you as you took time out to entertain me, and the look on your face as you turned away—the burdens that I didn’t understand until later . . . I saw it, even when you didn’t want me to.  I saw it, and . . . and it isn’t all on you.  It never should have been.  This—being a hunter—this is what I can do.  This is what I want to do.”

Fai opened his mouth to argue with Yerik, but snapped it closed with a frustrated sigh.

Yerik strode over to the door, paused with his hand on the handle.  Fai could feel the agitation in Yerik's youki, but at the moment, he just wasn't ready to delve into it any further—not now, not tonight, and as much as he wished it were otherwise, Yerik’s words, his quiet conviction . . . He could understand it, too.  He’d seen it—sensed it—in their father.  He understood it all just a little too well.  "Anyway, we'll get going in the morning," Yerik said, his tone, tight, clipped.  "If we take turns driving, it won't take too long to get back home.  Then I can go back to the university, since that's where you are dying for me to be."

Fai nodded as his brother slipped out of the room once more, leaving him alone with his troubled thoughts and answers that he just couldn't grasp, not yet.

 

* * *

 

 

"I can't believe that they're letting you go," Dmitri commented with a frown as he watched Saori pack the canvas duffel bag she'd brought with her when she'd first arrived to take the job at the home.

"It's okay," she said, sparing a moment to smile brightly at her friend—a friend she would miss terribly.

He wasn't buying, and his expression darkened, his neck length black hair hanging into his eyes, as he crossed his arms over his chest.  "It's not okay," he retorted, arching a jet-black eyebrow, his lips curling into a cynical sort of sneer.  "The children love you, and you love them.  They're going to be heartbroken, you know."

Her smile faltered, but she held on.  "As long as the home stays open, I have no complaints," she said, brushing past him to gather more things from the dresser.  "Besides, I'm not the only one they have to let go."

"I know," Dmitri said.  "I barely avoided it."

Saori's smile waned as she leaned against the dresser for a minute.  "I'll miss you, though," she admitted.

Dmitri nodded and held out his arm.  She hesitated for only a moment before stepping over, accepting the hug he offered.  "So, what will you do now, Saori?" he asked, giving her shoulders a brisk squeeze.

She sighed, squeezing him back before turning to resume packing.  "Well, I was offered a position back home before I accepted this one.  I doubt it's still open, but I'm sure I can find something there.  I just . . . I liked the feeling that I was really _needed_ here, I guess."

"And you won't feel like that somewhere else?"

"No, I'm sure I will," she replied.  "Maybe not as much, but I'll be fine . . ."

Dmitri looked like he wanted to argue with her, but he must have figured that there wasn't a point, other than making her feel worse.  Wandering over to the window, he leaned against the frame, staring down at the front of the facility.

"You'll keep me updated, won't you?  About the children?" she asked, bumping an empty drawer closed with her hip before stepping back over to the bed.

"Yeah, sure," he said, leaning down to peer out the window a little closer.  "Oh, is His Grace going to give you a ride to the airport?"

Frowning as she dropped the clothing on the bag, she hurried over and ducked under his arm to see what he was looking at.  Down in the cracked pavement below, Yerik and Fai were standing by the car that Yerik had driven, along with Director Bostoyev.  The car doors were open, waiting, and Saori slowly shook her head.  "No," she admitted.  "They're . . . They're leaving . . .?"

"Looks like it," Dmitri commented.

Saori didn't stop to think.  She wheeled around and took off at a sprint, reacting on instinct as a strange sense of trepidation surged through her.  She didn't stop to question it as she raced down the hallway, down the stairs, grimacing when she smacked into the front door since it didn't swing outward.

"Fai-sama!" she called, stepping outside, struggling to catch her breath as the men turned to look at her.

Something about the finality of seeing him, ready to get into that car, to drive away from her forever dislodged something deep inside her, and she very nearly choked as panic, so deep, so raw, exploded in her.

' _Do something, Saori!  Do something before he leaves!  Once he gets into that car and drives away, he'll be gone—beyond your reach!  You're never going to see him again, you know?  At least . . . At least . . ._ '

And she didn't stop to think, didn't consider what, if any, ramifications might well accompany her actions.  Dashing across the short porch, down the two steps to the cracked and disheveled sidewalk, across the walk, the grass, the broken pavement of the driveway, she threw herself into Fai's arms—he barely had time to catch her—her arms snaking around his neck, pulling him down at the same time that she rose up on tip-toe, her lips smashing against his in a clumsy and awkward kiss that still shot straight through her, straight to the heart of her, with a sigh, a breath, a deluging brilliance.  Somewhere in the back of her mind, it registered that he hadn't fought her at all, that he had done nothing to warn her off, to push her back—had, in fact, wrapped his arms around her—and was holding her so tightly that she almost couldn't breathe . . . All of it, every last bit, she committed to memory, knowing deep down that an hour from now, a day from now, a year from now, ten years . . . It would all be gone, everything but this moment—this one insular breath of time—that would stay in her heart forever . . .

A blatant throat-clearing intruded, snapping her out of her bemusement, and she gasped, her face exploding in crimson color as she stumbled back a step, as her hands flew up to hover over her mouth when her eyes flared wide.  A strong hand caught her—she didn't know who and didn't look.  Fai's expression was entirely unreadable, as he stared at her, his brows furrowed slightly, as though he were trying to see into her head.

"I-I-I—" she began, only to be cut off when Fai held up a hand.

Then he turned his head, stared at his brother for several long moments.  "Hunter," he said, addressing Yerik, whose eyes widened at the word Fai used.  "As your first act as my hunter, I order you to place this woman under arrest."

Yerik blinked.  "For kissing you?"

That earned him a narrow-eyed look.  "No, for kidnapping the Asian tai-youkai.  Put her in the car."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
>  _** xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
>  _** TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— WhisperingWolf ——— Amanda Gauger
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
>  _** Nate Grey ——— lianned88 ——— lovethedogs ——— Denyell ——— cutechick18 ——— WhisperingWolf
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _I'm being arrested_ …?


	15. 014: Above the Law

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_14_** ~~  
~ ** _Above the Law_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Stomping into the study, brushing off Vasili's very real umbrage, Fai started to close the door, only to be stopped when Yerik shoved his way into the room behind him.  The questions were rife in the air—Fai could feel them—but almost perversely, he opted to ignore them instead, heading straight to his desk to dig through the pile of correspondences that had accumulated during his absence and completely ignoring his sibling in the process.

Pushing aside the return call notes Vasili had stacked neatly atop the mail, Fai started to sort through it, dropping unimportant things into the trash without bothering to open them, frown darkening as he shifted through a number of 'past due' notices, he dropped the rest of the mail on the desk as he reached for the telephone.

Yerik leaned over, smashing his index finger down on the phone cradle hook, arching an eyebrow at Fai.

"It's hard to make a phone call when you're holding that down," he pointed out, cocking an eyebrow of his own at his younger brother.

Yerik stared at him for another long moment before giving in with an ungracious sigh.  "Okay, Fai.  We'll do this your way.  We always do.  So, we just made what should have been a five—six—day trip in just over two with barely a word spoken at any point during.  Saori kissed you.  There's obviously something there between the two of you, and you ordered me to arrest her?  What the hell is going on?"

"Regardless of what I think, of what I might . . . might feel . . . she broke the law, and if she got away with it, then the precedent that would set . . ." Fai dropped the receiver on the desk in favor of rubbing his forehead.  "I can't allow that."

"Because she kidnapped you."

" _Appropriated_ me," Fai corrected.

Yerik rolled his eyes.  "Whatever, Fai.  How long are you going to keep her here?"

"Until I feel that she has been duly chastised for her actions," Fai replied.  "Oh, and while I'm thinking about it, go find wherever Vasili stuck her and take her cell phone.  She won't be needing it during her stay."

"Don't you think you're being a little—?"

"Don't you want to be a hunter?" Fai interrupted, pinning Yerik with a no-nonsense look.

Yerik looked like he wanted to argue, but in the end, he gave one curt nod before pushing away from the desk and striding over to the door.  "As you wish," he called over his shoulder as he slipped out of the office.

Fai watched him go, but only after the door closed did he finally release the breath he'd held, pent-up.

' _You realize that Yerik can see right through you._ '

' _Don't know what you're talking about._ '

' _Don't you?  Then answer Yerik's questions, at least to me.  Why did you order her arrested, Fai?_ '

That question alone was enough to bring that memory back in full-force: of Saori, the urgency, the near panic, so rife in her youki, as she burst through the door, hesitating on the porch long enough to call out his name . . . The luxuriant ripple of her waist-length gunmetal hair, streaming out behind her as she flew down the steps, across the distance that separated them, only to throw herself into his arms, and her kiss . . .

Those rouged lips, the unnatural brightness in her eyes as her eyelids fluttered closed, the dusting of her sooty lashes against the paleness of her cheeks . . .

And the absolute shock of her lips under his—something he was entirely unprepared for—the moment of instant connection that slammed through him with the finesse of a sledgehammer as his brain froze, as tactile feel took over . . . He’d felt like he was dying, only to be reborn in her, with her, alongside her . . .

What was it about her?  From the moment she’d breezed into his life, something had changed, flip-flopped, set his entire world on its head, and he wasn’t entirely sure if the knowledge that things had veered so far from normal scared him worse, or if it was just the innate understanding that . . . that it was all right with him . . .

The unwelcome intrusion of reality was too fast, too soon, giving rise to an unreasonable rage that had little to do with Saori's perceived audacity and everything to do with the bitter disappointment as she pulled away from him—and that flash of realization that, as soon as he got into that car, it would be for the last time . . .

' _And you didn't want to let her go, did you?  Didn't want to go home, knowing that she wasn't going to be with you—that you may never see her again . . ._ '

' _Don't be ridiculous!  It had nothing to do with that . . . I just . . ._ '

' _You just reacted.  It's all right.  Objectively speaking, sometimes you have to go with your heart instead of your brain._ '

He snorted, snatching up the receiver and dropping it into the cradle of the telephone.  ' _That's not what I was doing,_ ' he insisted stubbornly.  ' _Not even close!_ '

' _Okay, okay, if you say so._ '

Somehow, he had the feeling that his youkai was just humoring him, which was enough to make his temper soar just a little higher.  Stifling the urge to growl out of sheer irritation, he grabbed the receiver and shoved the entire infuriating discussion aside as he punched in the number for the banker.

"Sberbank.  Vladimir Gostoyev's office.  This is Natasha.  How may I help you?"

"This is Faine Alexandrov Demyanov.  I need to speak with Vladimir."

"Yes, let me see if he's busy.  One moment, please."

Drumming his claws on the thick wooden desk, Fai waited impatiently.

It didn't make any sense.  None of his cards were working—all of them had been declined—and the stack of past due notices?  That shouldn't have happened, either.  There was no way that his accounts were so low that any of it should be an issue, and he was going to get some answers, damn it . . .

"Ah, Your Grace!" Vladimir Gostoyev's booming voice greeted him over the line.  "What can I do for you?"

"For starters, you can tell me why all my cards are being declined and why I have a stack of past due notices here on my desk," Fai growled.

"Oh, well, let me check into it . . ."

He heard the clicking of a computer keyboard as the banker accessed Fai's accounts.  Stifling the desire to sigh, Fai focused on holding together what was left of his waning patience.

"Hmm, it looks like there was suspicious activity, and so your accounts were frozen since we could not reach you to verity the transactions.  There's one attempted purchase in Traska that looks like it triggered the shut down . . ."

"That was a valid charge," Fai muttered.  "Not now, though. It's been paid.  I trust you can release my accounts?"

"Well, it's not as simple as that, Your Grace . . . Because you didn't respond to our messages in a timely manner, it triggered an audit of your accounts—all of them—and it may take another week to gain the releases on them . . ."

"Unacceptable," Fai snapped.  "Release them now."

"I don't know if I can do that," Vladimir hedged.  "I really have no control over it, and there isn't a way to override it at this point."

"And meanwhile, services will come to a screeching halt," Fai growled.  "Absolutely not."

"I'll see what I can do, Your Grace.  I'll call you back as soon as I find out anything."

The line went dead, and Fai uttered a frustrated snarl as he dropped the phone back into the cradle once more.

It just figured, didn't it?  The situation overall was precarious enough.  If those who opposed his position caught wind of it, it could easily escalate into something very ugly, very quickly.

' _Yet something else I could blame on Saori,_ ' he thought as he strode over and sloshed vodka into a sparkling glass.  If she hadn't dragged him off that day, then none of this would have happened, either.

' _You could,_ ' his youkai agreed, ' _but you won't.  After all, blaming her for it?  Do you think she meant to sabotage you?_ '

He sighed.  No, he supposed he really couldn't.  She didn't know that this would happen.  It was just a really crappy bonus.

Even so . . .

Dropping into the chair behind the expansive desk, Fai sighed and drained half of the glass in one swallow as he glared at the phone, willing it to ring . . .

 

* * *

 

 

' _This is all your fault!_ '

Pacing the barren chamber where she'd been locked in, good and tight, Saori rubbed her arms against the chill coming off the stone walls of the ridiculously large and just as ridiculously empty room.  It could easily have been a master chamber or a spare bedroom—she didn't know, but there were also a number of other closed doors she'd been hurried past by that rather stoic and curt old butler that had escorted her here and left her.

She could see the sun starting to set through the small window that she couldn't open without breaking it, and she sighed.  No bed, no blankets, no anything . . . and the bathroom was little more than an ancient looking toilet and a tiny sink, ensconced in a tiny room that she could barely turn around in . . . All in all, she had to wonder just what this room was used for or if it had somehow become forgotten over time, which seemed like a rather melancholy kind of thought . . .

Nope, the only thing in the room that she could move at all were a few small rocks that had crumbled away from the window frame.  Tossing a stone into the air and catching it, over and over, she heaved a very frustrated growl, quickening her step as she continued her prowling.

' _How is this my fault?_ ' her youkai-voice demanded.

She snorted.  The sound echoed in the empty chamber.  ' _What do you mean, how?  If you hadn't freaked me out about Fai-sama leaving, I never would have kissed him, and if I hadn't done that, he wouldn't have—Well, he just wouldn't have!_ '

' _That's not_ my _fault!_ '

' _How do you figure?_ '

' _Easy!  I don't have lips, girlfriend!  They're yours—_ yours _—and you're the one who just had to go plant one on him!_ '

' _I didn't—! Keh!  That was totally your doing!  If it weren't for you, we'd be at the airport now, getting ready to fly home!_ '

' _Think what you want, Saori, but that was entirely on you!_ '

' _You're so full of—_ '

The sound of keys, banging against the wooden door, drew her attention as she whipped around, just in time to see the door creak open.  Yerik stuck his head inside, a dark scowl on his face, but he heaved a sigh and shook his head—and managed to duck a split second before the rock that was in Saori's hand just barely missed his head.  It smacked into the wall hard enough to send out a few sparks from the fissure where the stone connected, and Yerik arched an eyebrow at her as he slowly straightened up again.

"Well, I was going to take you to a different room," he said in an inordinately dry tone.  "Unless you're going to keep trying to knock my block off, that is . . ."

She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest since she still hadn't quite forgiven any of them just yet.  "A different room?" she echoed dubiously.  "Why?"

Yerik shrugged and pushed the door open a little wider.  "Because this wing of the castle isn't heated—or ever used, actually," he said.  "Oh, and I'll take your cell phone, if you will."

"My . . .?" she blurted, pulling the device out of her pocket and wrinkling her nose since she'd completely forgotten that she even had it, to start with.  "Why?"

Yerik stepped forward, plucked it out of her hand.  "Tai-youkai's orders.  I suggest you ask him if you want to get any answers."

"He's being awfully mean," she pointed out, though she didn't really expect that he'd agree with her at all.  "I mean, I told him I was sorry—that I panicked.  I didn't mean to . . . to . . ."

Yerik didn't look impressed with her claims of innocence.  "Come on," he said, jerking his head toward the door as he slowly pivoted on his heel to lead her out of the room.

She almost declined, simply on principle, but she swallowed what was left of her tattered pride and followed Yerik out of the bereft room and down the hallway.

There was nothing, literally, in this wing of the old castle.  She'd noticed that on her way up to the room, to start with, accompanied by the old and immaculate butler who Fai had called Vasili.  No paintings, no carpeting, no curtains, no adornments—nothing at all to break up the harsh and cold feel that sank in, bone deep, as she involuntarily rubbed her arms once more . . .

"Why is this wing so barren?" she heard herself asking, her gaze slowly taking in the rising stones, the cold edifice.  Ten?  Twelve closed doors that all added another layer of darkness to the already filmy light.  There were no lamps at all, nothing, but even in the semi-haze, she could still make out the intricately carved patterns surrounding each of the doors, the graceful scrollwork, almost like vines, that ran along the base of the walls, etched deep into the stonework . . .

"The legend says that this wing stopped being used around my great-great grandfather's time," Yerik said, his voice a little quieter, but that might have been simply because of the enormity of the space that swallowed the sound.  "He had a very large family—seven sons, four daughters, and they all lived here for a long time—most of them stayed until he died.  One of them, though—the youngest daughter, Dominika . . . She was playing in the red room—that one," he said, pointing to a closed door they were fast approaching, but he didn't open it.  "That room was built as a play room for the children, and there's a balcony in there—it's beautiful, actually—but . . . Well, somehow, she climbed onto the railing and slipped.  It was never clear to me how it was possible, but she got her head stuck between the railings, and by the time they found her, it was too late.  After that, they moved out, one by one, but by the time my grandfather was born, his aunts and uncles had all died, too—many of them in sick and twisted ways . . . Some of the staff swore that they'd seen a ghost up here—Dominika's ghost, most likely—and many of them flat-out refused to even mount the stairs from the great hall, so, when Grandfather thought to renovate, he didn't bother with this wing.  He simply had the great doors closed, and it was forgotten."

"And that's why there's no electricity up here, either," she mused.

Yerik nodded.  "I used to play up here sometimes when I was small.  Fai told me not to, though.  He doesn't put much stock in silly superstition, but I guess that when it came to me, he wasn't given to taking any chances.  Then again, maybe he thought that I would slip, that I would end up, strangling myself like Dominika did.  Who knows?"

Something about Yerik's brief historical account of the castle was an interesting mix of fanciful and arcane, but it made sense in the end, as to why that area of the castle was basically forgotten.   "So . . . uh . . . sorry about the rock," Saori said, mostly to break the unnerving silence that made her want to scream.  "I . . . I lost my temper, was all, and . . . and I didn't even think about it . . ."

"Is that why you kidnapped my brother—err, the tai-youkai?" he asked almost conversationally—almost.  “Because you didn’t think about it?”

She wrinkled her nose.  "It wasn't kidnapping as much as it was—"

"—Appropriation.  I got that.  You know, though, it doesn't matter what you call it.  The end result was the same.  It could be considered treason—a crime that's punishable by death.  If you were Russian, there would be no room for argument on it, but since you’re not, then the, uh, tai-youkai might have a bit of wiggle-room, so to speak . . ."

She blinked since she hadn't actually considered the overall severity of her overall actions.  "Is . . . Fai-sama going to . . . _execute_ me?"

“He might.”

She swallowed hard, wishing fervently that she could interpret whether or not Yerik was kidding.  He didn’t sound like he was, but she also couldn’t rightfully make out the expression on his face in the weak and waning light . . . “That sounds kind of extreme . . . I mean, I didn’t hurt him or anything . . .”

“You knocked him out,” Yerik reminded her in the same mild tone.

“That was accidental, and it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t made me cry . . .”

“Your powers of reasoning are astounding,” he replied dryly.

She sighed.  “Don’t you care about the orphanage?  Fai-sama said that it was something your mother felt strongly about . . .”

“I don’t remember her,” Yerik said.  There was no bitterness, no anger in his tone—just a sense of practicality that somehow dug at Saori’s heart.  “Before you ask, I don’t remember Father, either.”

“You . . . You don’t . . .?”

He glanced at her, probably because she hadn’t been able to keep the absolute horror out of her voice.  She grimaced inwardly, but he quickly looked away once more.  “I don’t.  I don’t know if that’s good or bad, to tell you the truth.  What I do remember is Fai—everything he’s done for me, everything he’s said to me . . . I assume that the things that he’s taught me are things that Father and Mother taught him, so I know they were good people, but to me?  They’re just that—people.  It’s not like I have any real emotional connection to them, but Fai?  So, when someone comes along and, say, _kidnaps_ him?  I do have some fairly strong feelings about that.  You understand.”

“I . . . I would have asked him to come with me if he hadn’t been knocked out,” she grumbled, unable to staunch the flow of blood under her skin.  “I mean, he would have said, ‘no’, but . . . I never meant to hurt him or anything . . .”

“Why did you kiss him?”

That question stopped her dead in her tracks, and the blush that she’d tried to fight back positively exploded in vivid technicolor.  “Wh-Wh-Why . . .?”

He nodded.  “Why would you?  You don’t strike me as the kind of girl who just randomly chooses to kiss some guy out of the blue.  Are you?”

The last thing she actually wanted to do was to admit to Yerik, of all people, that she hadn’t actually kissed anyone prior to the other day when she’d thought she’d never see Fai again . . . It was information that he just did not need, as far as she was concerned.  “Of course, I don’t,” she mumbled, wishing he would drop it, yet feeling that he wasn’t going to.  “I . . . I don’t know why I did that . . .”

Yerik considered that for a moment before shrugging and offering a little nod, but opted to let the subject drop, much to Saori’s vast relief.  He paused long enough to yank the huge, hulking, impossibly heavy wooden doors closed on the hallway, before leading her down a couple flights of stairs to a wide landing that veered off to the left to the entryway of the great hall.  He ignored that, however, leading her up the stairs straight across the landing.

It was as different as night and day.  On this side, the hallway felt warmer, more inviting.  She’d seen it all, albeit it briefly in passing, but hadn’t gotten a chance to really examine it, either, given that she was being herded into that drafty old room at the time . . . Deep maroon and gold carpets extended down the long, darkened hallway, illuminated by wrought iron wall sconces that looked old and almost draconian, accented with thick and heavy polished wooden doors—a far cry from the dulled and tired looking doors in the defunct wing of the castle, but the intricate carving along the baseboards and up around each of the doorways was the same, and in this area, those same carvings were more pronounced, almost crisper—absolutely stunning.  The doors themselves were also the same, though these were highly polished, meticulously gleaming, and they also bore the intricate carvings in a larger scale like a mural . . .

There wasn't much in the way of actual adornment on the understated cream embossed wallpaper or anything other than the carvings, but it wasn't lacking, either—the kind of simple elegance that fine structure alone could provide . . .

"So, you don’t know why you kissed him?  Interesting . . ."

Saori grimaced at that reminder.  She’d hoped that he’d opted not to delve any deeper into it.  She should have known.  He didn't see her reaction, though, since he was slightly ahead of her, which, she figured, was better.  "I . . . I got a little carried away," she muttered, unable to keep the blood from flooding into her cheeks.

"Is that what you call it?  You know, don't you?  It's highly improper for anyone to touch the tai-youkai.  It's almost taboo."

She frowned, staring at his back, wondering if he were being completely serious or not.  She couldn't tell, and she sighed softly.

"Anyway, as you mentioned, Fai said you . . . _appropriated_ him so that you could convince him to keep funding the orphanage," Yerik went on, as though his previous statement didn't mean anything.  "Thanks for that."

"For what?" she said, almost by rote since she was still pondering his prior observation.

"No one else would have been able to change his mind.  In fact, I could count on one hand, how many times anyone’s managed to do that," Yerik said.

"Oh . . . I don't think that it was me, exactly," she admitted.  "I mean, he said he didn't want to defund it—that it was something he had to do.  Lack of money . . ."

He sighed.  “When I said that I didn’t remember my parents, it wasn’t to say that I don’t care about the orphanage.  I do.  It’s a very worthwhile establishment, regardless of whether Mother championed it or not.  I could have ended up there, had it not been for Fai, so yes, I care.”

“You . . . You care about your brother a great deal,” she mused, more to herself than to him.  “It’s obvious . . . I think I’d feel the same way if something happened to nii-chan.  He’s a lot older than me, too, kind of like the two of you . . .”

“Nii-chan?  That means ‘brother’?”

She nodded.  “Well, yes, but it means ‘big brother’.  Strictly speaking, you can use it to refer to your older brother or you could use it when addressing any older male.  If you’re not related, though, it’s often better to use, ‘san’ instead of, ‘chan’ . . . It’s more correct.  ‘Chan’ infers a certain level of intimacy that ‘san’ does not.  Does that help?”

Yerik chuckled.  “It does.  So, if I were to address Fai using that, then I’d probably use ‘nii-san’ because it would be more respectful?”

She nodded again.  “Yes.”

“Understood.”

Yerik shrugged as he led her down the hallway on the third floor.  Stopping outside the room on the end on the left-hand side of the corridor, he gestured for her to enter.  She did, slowly shifting her gaze around the well-appointed room—the ornate, four poster bed that stood in the center of the room atop a raised stone dais amidst a network of off-white netting that hung, suspended from the ceiling in soft billows, all the way to the floor.  The lengths of it were tied to the tall bedposts, and, though it looked opulent, beautiful, she knew well enough that the netting was there for pragmatic reasons to guard against the rampant mosquitoes that plagued the entire country during the summer months.

That aside, the room itself was fairly sparsely furnished—a huge and heavy teak wardrobe against the far wall with a standing full-length mirror beside it, a small but comfortable looking easy chair near the window with a table where a silver dome sat next to a full glass of what looked to be kvass was waiting.  Even from where she stood, she could smell the food under that dome, and her stomach growled uncomfortably loudly.

"Your bathroom is there," Yerik said, gesturing at the solid door next to the closet doors.  He hadn't stepped into the room and only lingered in the doorway.  "I'll leave you alone now.  Good night, Saori."

He started to reach for the door.  She swung around to face him.  "Wait, Yerik?"

"Yes?"

"Do you . . .?  Do you know how long Fai-sama wants to keep me here?"

Yerik stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, much like Fai had a tendency to make.  "I have no idea," he admitted.  "I'll check in on you in a little while."

“Thank you,” she said, offering him a bow of courtesy.

He chuckled, letting his head fall slightly to the side, the gentle light catching in the strands of his golden hair.  “You know, I like you, Saori,” he finally said.  “Just don’t make a habit of kidnapping the tai-youkai, please.”

She winced, but grinned. “I won’t . . . and I like you, too, Yerik.”

He chuckled again, and she watched as he pulled the door closed, her smile dying away as a frown replaced it when she heard his footsteps, dulled by the carpeting in the hallway, as he strode away.  He hadn't locked the door, but that didn't really matter.  Even if she did manage to get out of the room—out of the castle—there wasn't really anywhere she could go, and, because Yerik had hustled her right into the car, she also didn't have her clothes or her purse, either . . .

She was stuck, absolutely.

Shuffling over to the small table, to the food that had been left for her, Saori opted to brush aside the questions about her forced confinement—at least, for now.

A still-steaming bowl of borscht, a few thick, slices of black bread, a plate of stewed meat—beef? served along with roasted potatoes, sprinkled delicately with fresh herbs and what looked to be a thin buttery sauce . . .

Sure, she probably ought to be trying to figure out a way out of here or at least, a way to convince Fai that he ought to let her leave, but at the moment, she was just too hungry to care.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to read the heavily edited version of WhisperingWolf’s oneshot, _Heart of a Warrior_.  Even if you read it originally, the edits make it well worth a second read!  It can be found on Ao3 and MMorg …  
>  https://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_ch.php/173275/621118  
>  http://archiveofourown.org/works/11107932
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Silent Reader ——— Goldeninugoddess
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— Amanda Gauger ——— WhisperingWolf ——— Bonnie ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** lianned88 ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _Treason_ …?


	16. 015: Whispers

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_15_** ~~  
~ ** _Whispers_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Frowning at the closed door with his arms crossed over his chest, Fai pulled an arm free just enough to flick his hand, to look at his watch with a sigh.

Nearly two in the morning.

It was a lot later than he'd intended.  He'd actually meant to talk to Saori long before now.  Then he'd been waylaid by things that he'd neglected in the last couple weeks—things that he couldn't put off any longer, including a phone call to Evgeni Feodosiv, who had been both angry and relieved by turns.  That call had taken almost an hour and a half since Evgeni didn't actually buy Fai's story that he had just wanted to check into the orphanage, to see if there was anything he could do to keep it up and running.

He hadn't said a thing about Saori, but he wasn't sure why.  For some reason, though, the idea of telling anyone, even Evgeni, who had been like a surrogate father to Fai since he'd taken over as tai-youkai . . .

It bothered him.

' _You just don't want to admit that a little girl managed to pull one over on you; is that it?_ '

Frown deepening at the sound of his youkai-voice's taunt, Fai snorted inwardly.  ' _No, that's not it,_ ' he growled.

His youkai laughed.  ' _Yeah, I didn't really think so, either.  You hate the idea of saying anything to anyone that might paint her in a less than positive light._ '

He sighed.  Somehow, he wasn't quite ready to admit that much, even to himself . . .

' _You know, there's a good chance she's sleeping._ '

Fai considered that, but shook his head.  No, he really didn't think she would be.  He could feel the gentle pulses of her youkai, even through the door, though he couldn't rightfully read her aura well enough to get a good handle on what sort of mood she might be in.

' _Are you joking?  You'd better be prepared, Fai.  There's a good chance that she's going to want to rip your face off the second she sees you.  I mean, you had her arrested, after all . . ._ '

Raising his hand, hesitating for just a moment before tapping on the door, Fai waited.

She didn't answer.  In fact, he didn't hear any movement at all, coming from inside her room.  Propriety demanded that he turn and leave.  For some reason, though, the longer he waited, the more he felt like he needed to see her.

Ignoring that little voice in the back of his head—one that sounded entirely too much like his mother for his comfort—he turned the door knob and slowly pushed it open.

She wasn't in bed.  She wasn't at the small table.  Scanning the room, his frown darkened.  He could feel her, but he couldn't find her, and that was entirely disconcerting.  Moreover, her aura was entirely calm, wholly peaceful, and he wasn't expecting that.

But . . . Where was she . . .?

Stepping into the room, around the dais where the bed stood, past the huge hearth with a modest fire, burning brightly, a slight movement off to the right drew his attention, and he blinked.  The window near the wardrobe was open just enough to allow a stream of fresh air in, but that didn't concern him at all.

No, it was the rather diminutive form of the woman, curled up on the narrow window seat that interested him, and he shuffled closer, breaking into the barest hint of a smile as he stood, watching her sleep.  Knees drawn up, braced against the bottom of the window pane, she was slumped to the side, her temple resting against the cool glass, her arms tucked demurely into the narrow gap between her bent legs and her stomach.

He didn't disturb her, satisfied for the moment, just to look at her.  The full moon, shining through the window, seemed to caress her skin, bathing her in a whitish-blue haze that seemed to lend her an almost ethereal glow, a luster, a brilliance . . . The delicate structure of her features added a dramatic sort of play between the light and the shadows, enhancing the fullness of her lips, the richness of her eyelashes, of her eyebrows . . . Curiously, too, the light . . . It tangled in her hair, adding a paler shade of gray, only a few degrees darker than her skin.  If he didn't know better, he'd swear her hair wasn't nearly as deep in color as it was . . .

Something about her calmed him, didn't she?  Something about her made him forget just how stressful his day had been . . . As though all the things he'd had to deal with just faded away, and she did that, even if he had no idea, just how she'd managed it . . .

Raising his forearm, resting it against the window frame on the other side, he leaned his head against it, staring at her the whole while.  He had no idea, just how many minutes ticked away.  He wasn't entirely sure that it even mattered.  She uttered the softest sigh, and the vague smile on his lips widened just a touch.

' _And that's why you shooed Olga out of the kitchen, too.  Just couldn't tolerate the idea of someone else, cooking for her, could you?_ '

' _After all the traveling?  We all deserved a good, hot meal,_ ' he argued.

His youkai wasn't buying.  ' _Except you only cooked food for her.  You and Yerik ate what Olga had already prepared, but not Saori . . ._ '

He could feel the tell-tale heat creeping into his cheeks, and he could only be grateful that Saori was sleeping and therefore didn't see it.  ' _It would have been entirely wasteful to throw out what she'd made._ '

His youkai heaved a sigh, but remained silent otherwise—a good thing, considering . . . After all, she liked his cooking; she'd said as much, and that was as good a reason as any, wasn't it?  Besides, the slight distraction afforded him while he cooked her meal was enough to bolster his resolve as he'd returned to his office afterward.

Drawing a deep breath, Fai pushed himself upright once more.  Glancing at his watch, he made a face.  Nearly three in the morning, which meant that he'd been standing here, staring at her like he was some sort of crazy stalker-type for almost an hour.

So, he carefully scooped her up, trying his best not to disturb her sleep.  She whimpered softly, her brows drawing together slightly, but she didn't open her eyes as he shuffled over to the bed, laying her down gently, letting his fingertips linger on her cheek for a very long moment before he pulled the coverlet up over her.

Her clothing gave him pause, and he shook his head.  He hadn't stopped to consider it at the time, had he?  He should have given her time to gather her things, but, given the situation, he wasn't exactly thinking as clearly as he should have been, which meant he either had to send for her things or he'd have to figure out a way to get her some clothing since she had none.  There really was no getting around it, given that she'd also left her wallet there, too, and he wondered just what Yerik would say if Fai ordered him to go back to retrieve her effects . . .

Letting out a deep breath, he sank down beside her, resuming his task of watching her sleep.  He had a feeling that he wouldn't mind doing this for a long, long time—content, just to be near her, content just to . . . to be _with_ her . . .

 

* * *

 

 

"I hear that Konstantin Korinovich has been spouting more of his pseudo-threats.  Not surprising, but something you may want to check into.  The longer you allow him to run his mouth, the less control it seems like you exert over the situation."

Staring out the window at the conspicuously empty spot in the driveway where Fai's car normally sat, he lifted the glass of vodka to his lips and sipped it slowly.  Yerik had taken Saori to buy some clothes a couple hours ago, and they still weren't back yet . . . But at least his accounts had been released, which was a small consolation.

"Fai?  Fai . . .? Your Grace?"

Yanking himself out of his own reverie, Fai cleared his throat, but didn't turn away from the window.  "What's that?"

Evgeni Feodosiv heaved a sigh, his chair creaking as he pushed himself to his feet.  "You haven't heard a word I've said in the last hour, have you?"  He didn't sound irritated as much as he seemed a little dubious.  Striding over to the sideboard to fill a glass with vodka, the griffon-vulture-youkai took his time.  "Care to tell me what's distracting you?"

"Nothing," Fai lied, forcing himself to turn away from the window.  "You were saying?"

Evgeni's golden-brown eyes narrowed.  "Somehow, I don't believe you," he mused.  "In fact, I get the feeling that you're hiding something."

"There's nothing to hide," Fai stated, pushing away from the window and striding back over to the desk once more.  "So, you were saying . . .?"

Evgeni slowly shook his head, his large frame slumping a little lower in the chair.  "I said that there's been rumor that Konstantin Korinovich has been trying to incite more trouble.  I'll speak candidly?"

Holding out a hand, Fai gave one curt nod.

Evgeni drained the glass of vodka and set it aside, tapping his fingertips together as he pondered the best way to say what it was he wanted to say.  "I know that you don't hold much stock in the idea, but perhaps, in this case, you ought to consider . . . nipping the problem at the bud, so to speak."

Fai scowled.  "You think I should bring him in?  That I should, what?  Kill him for running his mouth?"

Evgeni shrugged.  "He is inciting unrest against you, Fai.  I understand your feelings on the matter, but the fact remains that you are not your father—your position is quite a bit more precarious, like it or not, and—"

"—And I refuse to cut down someone simply for asserting his beliefs, right or wrong," Fai cut in coldly.

"Your sense of fairness is going to get you in trouble one day," Evgeni warned.

"I'm strong enough to hold my office on my own merit," Fai said.

"Dissidence spreads like infection," Evgeni went on, sounding rather philosophic.  "I just worry that doing nothing will lead to something you cannot even imagine."

"If it does, then it does," Fai argued mildly.  "If I went, chasing after every rumor, every whisper, that I heard of?  I'd be doing nothing at all but killing people who might just be having a bad day and who need to have someone to blame it all on."

"I can't say I feel this is in your best interests, Fai . . ."

"With all due respect, Evgeni, I am still tai-youkai, so unless or until someone comes forward to issue a formal challenge and possesses the skill to defeat me, then this is my law."

Evgeni stared at him for a long moment, his expression dark, almost calculating.  Finally, though, he smiled, albeit a little tightly, and he shrugged.  "As you will, Your Grace."

Fai sighed.  "And you, of all people, don't need to stand upon formality."

Evgeni nodded, gripping the thick wooden arms of the chair in preparation to haul himself to his feet.  "Well, I must be going, Fai.  Just do an old man a favor?  Think on what I said."

Rolling his eyes, Fai stood up.  "You're hardly old, and even if I think about it, I'm not going to change my stance."

The indulgent smile was so thin, Fai could see right through it.  Shrugging his jacket on, he took his time, straightening his sleeves, adjusting his collar and tie.  "Fai . . ."

"Yes?"

"You never did tell me where you were for . . . two weeks . . .?"

Stepping around the desk, Fai retrieved a bottle of water out of the small refrigerator in the wetbar.  "I did tell you.  I went to see the orphanage," he said.

"I thought you decided to close that."

"I did," he said.  "Then I realized that I could keep it open as long as I implemented a few changes—cutbacks in staffing, trying to see about getting some of the children placed . . ."

"And you think that'll work?"

"It has to.  It was Mother's project."

"Sentimentality doesn't suit you," he said.  "Don't make the mistake of letting your heart rule your mind."

Fai leveled a look at his advisor and friend.  "You're dangerously close to overstepping yourself, Evgeni," he said, refusing to allow his own personal feelings to dictate his actions.

Evgeni, for the most part, looked a little surprised at the set-down, but he managed a tight little smile, a curt nod.  "As you wish, Your Grace," he said, inclining his head in deference to Fai's station.  Then he turned and slipped out of the office, closing the door behind himself as Fai watched him go.

Of course, he could appreciate Evgeni's concerns.  To be honest, he figured it would be pretty unnatural for the griffon-vulture-youkai to do otherwise.  He wasn't known for keeping his own counsel, at least, not in matters such as these.  More and more often of late, however, his suggestions were leaning more toward the demanding side, though this was the first time he had given in to the desire to disabuse the old man of his more grandiose ideas.

True enough, he thought as he wandered over to the window once more, the idea of allowing someone such as Konstantin Korinovich to keep running his mouth could lead to more trouble in the long run, but as he'd said, he wasn't in the habit of challenging someone, just to quell the threat he may cause.  If it came back to bite him in the ass later?  Well, he'd deal with that, too . . .

Letting out a deep breath that lifted the long bangs that hung into his eyes, he deliberately refused to look back at his desk: at the mountain of work that required his attention.  Formal missives for more funding that he would have to summarily deny, a stack of requests to meet with him, face to face, for whatever reason, most of them a little frivolous, contracts for the distillery that needed looked over and signed . . .

Dragging his hands over his face, he slowly shook his head.

He'd turned over the day-to-day management of the distillery to an old badger-youkai who basically already ran the place, and he had told him, too, that he could take care of the contracts and such, as well, but Ivan Yasyovich was too old-school for that, so it was his habit of sending the contracts to Fai, along with notes attached that broke everything down so that he could get the gist of the contract in a few minutes instead of having to spend hours, pouring over each one.

The Demyanov Distillery was opened back in Fai's great-grandfather's time, specializing in vodka.  At present, they produced five different labels, but the most special one, in Fai's opinion, was the Faina Crystal Label that Alexei had created specifically for Fai's mother.  It was a little fruitier since just the barest hint of apple and peach were added to the mix—not enough to stand out, just enough to add a little sweetness, a hint of flavor that lingered in the nose without overwhelming the palate.  It was also the most popular of the labels.  One day, Fai wanted to expand the distillery, to give it more production capability, but that would take money, and right now, money was not as plentiful as he'd like . . .

At least, the whole debacle with his accounts had been cleared up, which was a good thing, given that Fai had sent Yerik and Saori into town to get her some clothing.

Forcing himself away from the window, Fai shuffled over to plop down at his desk once more.  If he could just get caught up a little . . .

' _If you could, then you might be able to spend some time with Saori, you mean._ '

Ignoring his youkai-voice, Fai reached for the stack of contracts.  Usually he read them over before signing them, but this time, he broke with tradition, simply pulling off the sticky notes where Ivan had scrawled the highlights and signed them.  After all, Ivan had never sent on a bad contract yet, and Fai didn't figure he'd start doing that now.  From the looks of them, anyway, they were just requests to supply to a few new markets, and that was fine.  So far, they only shipped as far as Poland, so, it would be nice to expand farther.

To be honest, he actually preferred the distillery business to that of being the tai-youkai.  He didn't have much choice in it, of course, but if he did, he'd have been more than happy to run the company for awhile before being forced into office.  Maybe, if things ever evened out, maybe he could work with the distillery a little more . . .

Of course, that was a long-term goal.  Right now, the important thing was just to keep his head above the proverbial water.

A discreet knock sounded on the door—precisely two taps, no more, no less.  "Come," Fai called out.

"Your Grace," Vasili said with a crisp bow.  "Lord Yerik is back with your . . . With the young lady."

"Good," Fai remarked, signing the next contract.  "Would you ask Yerik to come in here when he's got a minute?"

"Very well," Vasili said, backing out of the room again.

He'd just finished with the contracts when the door opened and Yerik slipped inside.  "She's mad at you," he said without preamble and without bothering to elaborate.

"Huh?" Fai muttered, reaching for the stack of letters that had already been opened and arranged in a neat pile.

"Saori.  She's mad at you."

Dropping his pen as he lifted his chin to glower at his brother, Fai slowly shook his head.  "Mad at me?  Why?"

Yerik shrugged almost casually.  "I believe her word was, 'baka— _ba-a-a-a-a-aka_ ' . . . I have no idea what it means, but she said it with an awful lot of conviction."

Fai frowned since he wasn't sure what it meant, either.  "If you don't know what it means, then how do you know that she's mad at me?"

Pausing as he sloshed vodka into a clean glass, Yerik glanced at him for a moment.  "Because I'd just said your name, and she made this sort of growling noise, then she said _that_ , so whatever it means, I'm pretty sure it isn't complimentary."

Fai snorted, standing up, digging his hands deep into his pockets.  "Okay, but why would she be mad at me, in the first place?"

Yerik rolled his eyes over the glass of vodka.  "Oh, I don't know . . . because you had her arrested?  Because you embarrassed her in front of everyone at the orphanage?  Because you took her phone away?  Because you ordered her locked up—do you know that Vasili put her in the east wing?"

"The east wing?  There's nothing there . . ."

"Exactly.  I had a devil of a time, locating her.  I moved her to the west wing when I figured it out.  Mostly, though, I think she might be mad at you since you haven't bothered to say one word to her in the three days she's been here."

"I've been busy," Fai growled, stomping around the desk to fill a glass for himself, "and I have gone to see her every night.  It just so happens that she's sleeping by then . . ."

Yerik sighed.  "You kind of sound like a demented stalker," he pointed out dryly.

Fai snorted.  "Shut up.  I'm doing the best that I can, but I have to get this stuff caught up."

"What is she to you?"

That got Fai's attention quickly enough.  Head snapping to the side to pin his brother with a fulminating glower, he uttered a terse growl.

Yerik held up a hand to stop Fai's tirade before it started.  "I’m being serious, Fai.  I mean, I've never seen you this . . . this out of control, this . . . unlike yourself.  It's not a bad thing.  It's just, the Fai I know?  If anyone else had come up and kissed you like that?  You'd have been angry— _livid_ —blustering about the impropriety of it all.  So, you know, if it matters to you at all, I like her.  I like her a lot.  She's smart and funny . . . She doesn't play games, and she isn't fake or trying to put on some act, just to impress you."

"You think I don't know that?" he shot back defensively.

Yerik shrugged again.  "I don't know what you do or don't know, Fai.  It's okay, though.  You realize that, right?"

"What is?"

Yerik chuckled, his bright green eyes shining mischievously.  "She's hot, Fai—damn hot.  I can see why you wouldn't want her to just walk out of your life.  I get that.  Maybe you ought to tell her that, though, instead of sneaking into her room in the dead of night while she's sleeping."

"Yerik . . ."

That said, Yerik chuckled, digging Fai's bank card out of his pocket, dropping it on the desk along with a handful of receipts, and ambled toward the door.  "Anyway, I just thought you should know.  That's all."  Then he slipped out, closing the door quietly behind him, leaving Fai to stew over the words he'd said . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you Monday!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** — — —
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— WhisperingWolf
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** lovethedogs ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _What the hell does that mean_ …?


	17. 016: Incarceration

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_16_** ~~  
~ ** _Incarceration_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori could hear herself blink in the overwhelming silence.  Staring up at the wire rack that held the netting, suspended from the ceiling over the bed, she sighed softly.

A week.

It had been a whole week since Fai had ordered Yerik to arrest her—almost five days since they'd arrived here, and yes, she realized that she was being punished for her impetuous decision to kidnap him.  Even so, she had to admit—at least, when she wasn't mad enough to spit—she was lonely.

In the last few days, she'd explored the majority of the estate, wandering around for hours, taking in the beauty that existed beyond the carefully kempt gardens.  Like her original thought when she'd first driven onto the property, she'd realized that the landscaping around the castle itself was so meticulous, so rigid—almost militaristic in feel—that she couldn't help but to be uneasy within the confines of the too-perfect yard.

And there was no one to really tell her that she couldn't venture farther.  Following the gentle stream that coursed through the garden, she'd had to stop when she found the outer wall of the estate—a high and thick cobblestone wall.  The stream flowed through a duct in the base of it, but that duct was fitted with thick iron bars, so she'd followed that wall instead.  Maybe she could have scaled it, had she really wanted to, but a part of her had to acknowledge that she really deserve to be detained for what she’d done, even if she hadn’t really had any bad intentions.

There was a lot of wildlife on the estate.  She hadn't realized that, to start with.  Nothing dangerous, no, but plenty of rabbits and birds and smaller things.  Today, she'd watched a pack of stoats for a long time as they worked and played.  It was mating season, so she'd seen some of that behavior, too.  In the end, though, she had walked back to the castle, only to learn from Vasili that Fai was exactly where he was every day: locked into the study with the door closed, attending to tai-youkai business, and Yerik?  Well, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him in the last couple days, either.

It baffled her, actually.  Vasili had been curt and even cold those first couple days, but he had warmed to her a little bit since then.  That wasn't really the trouble, anyway.  No, what really perplexed her was exactly why she was being detained here.  After all, if she were truly being punished for kidnapping Fai, to start with, why was she staying in his house, and why was she free to go wherever she pleased?  No one had tried to stop her when she ventured outside.  No one actually talked to her at all, to tell the truth, Vasili aside.  But she hadn't seen Fai, either, not since they'd arrived and she'd watched him lead off down the hallway that led to his office moments before she was taken to the east wing.

She just wasn't used to being alone this much.  She hadn't realized just how much of a social creature she actually was, and the idea that she couldn't even contact her family just made it a little bit harder to deal with.  Too used to her family’s sometimes microscopic attention, she supposed—too accustomed to the warm and welcome smiles of her family . . . The forced isolation was hell; it really, really was . . .

She was so deep in her thoughts that she almost missed the soft knock on the door.  So soft that it might well have gone unnoticed had she been human, she frowned as she tried to decide if she had actually heard it or if it had been some sort of strange figment of her imagination.  It took her a few seconds to comprehend the almost novel idea that she really had heard the sound, and she pushed herself up on her hands as the door slowly opened.

To her surprise, Fai stepped into the darkened room, lit only by the small fire that she'd built in the fireplace to chase off the spring chill in the night air.  Clad in his regular ensemble of dark slacks and nondescript light dress shirt—this one was white—he stood just inside the door, scowling as he eyes adjusted to the dusky twilight from the brightness of the hallway beyond.

"Fai-sama," she murmured, leaning forward, drawing up her knees under the coverlet, wrapping her arms around them.

His head snapped to the side, his gaze locking with hers.  Across the distance, she couldn't rightfully discern his expression, but she felt the slight flare in his youki when he pushed the door closed softly and turned to face her, hands digging deep into his pockets as silence fell between them.

"I . . . I didn't wake you, did I?" he finally asked, his voice softer than usual.

She shook her head.  "No . . . I wasn't asleep yet."

She couldn't tell if he believed her or not, but he nodded.  "You're usually asleep by now," he went on.  Then, he sighed.  "Every night, I try to get away from work to come up and see you, and then I lose track of time.  Are you all right?"

She frowned at the implication of what he'd so casually said.  "You . . . come up here every night?"

He shrugged and turned his head.  In the brief flash of light from the dancing flames, she saw his brow furrow as a consternated expression surfaced.  "Just checking on you.  That's all.  Anyway, you're fine, so . . ."

Narrowing her gaze as she watched him turn and reach for the door knob, she couldn't help the flare of irritation that forced her to toss aside the blanket and hop out of bed.  "Fine?" she squeaked indignantly.

He looked rather perplexed.  "You aren't fine?" he asked.

She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly.  "If you call spending all day, every day alone, 'fine', then sure, I suppose," she gritted out.  Then she shook her hand, as though to take back what she'd just said.  "I'm sorry," she said, rubbing her forehead as she struggled to rein in her rioting anger.  "I guess I'm not here for a social visit, am I?"

"Welcome to my life," he grumbled, sounding almost— _almost_ —apologetic.  "I didn't mean to leave you alone, however," he went on.  "I fell behind when _someone_ thought I needed to go, running off to meet the orphans."

She made a face.  For some reason, what he'd said . . . It bothered her.  The idea that his entire life centered around work and nothing but . . .? But Fai, unlike her uncle, unlike her cousin's mate, didn't have anyone to help him—at least, that was the feeling she got from him . . .

Letting out a deep breath—it wasn't really a sigh, but it wasn't really not one, either—Fai shuffled toward her, nodding at the bed.  "Mind . . . Mind if I sit with you till you go to sleep?"

Surprised by his question, Saori slowly nodded and sank back down.  Fai pulled the blanket up over her before settling himself on the edge of the bed beside her.  "So . . . how long am I going to be punished for appropriating you?" she couldn't help asking as she snuggled against the fluffy pillows.

That earned her a rather calculating look.  "Until you prove that you're adequately sorry for what you did," he replied rather cryptically.

She stared at him, blinking slowly, studying his profile in the din half-light.  Hair hanging over his eyes, chestnut glimmers catching the glow in golds and deep umbers, his face was almost lost in shadows as he stared down at his hands, his eyes glimmering, shimmering in the vague dusk . . . "I am sorry for knocking you out," she allowed slowly, quietly.

He sighed.  "Somehow, I don't think you're even slightly sorry for the kidnapping," he pointed out dryly.

"How can I be when you changed your mind about defunding the orphanage?" she countered mildly.  "I suppose if I have to be detained for it, then your estate is, at the very least, a beautiful prison."

Turning his head just enough to pin her with a very droll look, Fai snorted indelicately.  "You could at least act a little contrite, don't you think?" he prompted.

"Kaa-chan always said that lying is the beginning of the end," she quipped.  "Besides, it's my policy not to lie, and if I said I was sorry, then it'd be a lie since the end result was what I was hoping for."

He slowly shook his head.  Then he laughed, which brought her up onto her elbow.  When he continued to chuckle, she leaned over, pressing her hand against his forehead.  "What are you doing?" he asked, still sounding amused while he grasped her wrist and tugged her hand down.

"Checking to see if you have a fever," she replied, tugging her hand free as she sat up, planting her hand on his forehead once more, taking her free hand to test her own forehead, too.  "You don't seem to have one . . ."

"I don't have a fever," he grouched, pulling her hand away once more, but this time, he didn't let go of her wrist.

"Then, what was so funny?" she asked, unable to contain the hint of breathlessness in her tone as she tried to ignore the curious sense of warmth that radiated straight through her from the contact.

Again, he shook his head.  "The way you see things," he told her simply.  "Right, wrong . . . entirely straight, right down the middle."

"And you don't?"

He shrugged.  "I can't."

"Have you ever seen things that way?"

"Not in a very long time," he admitted.  "Maybe never.  I was taught early on to look at things from different angles.  When you change your perspective, sometimes the lines between right and wrong can blur.  That's all."

She considered that for a moment.  She supposed that Fai had a point.  After all, being able to see a more comprehensive picture was a necessary skill for the job.  "So . . . because you're tai-youkai—because you were raised to be tai-youkai—this was part of the things you were taught . . .?"

"Something like that."

"Do you think I should work on that, too?  Try to see things a little more objectively?"

Narrowing his gaze on her for several long heartbeats, he shrugged, let go of her wrist so that he could reach up, tuck her hair back behind her ear.  "I kind of like the way you see things," he finally concluded.  Then he gave his head a little shake.  "Well, you may want to rethink your stance on kidnapping, though.  Not everyone is as lenient as I am."

"That was acquired appropriation, and I only do that when I'm desperate," she informed him haughtily, wondering vaguely if he could see the heightened color in her cheeks.

"You can try to pretty it up, Saori, but it is what it is."

"And it's my fault that you're still trying to catch up on your work, isn't it?"  She grimaced.  "I _am_ sorry about that . . ."

"I'm caught up now," he told her.  "Tomorrow, though, I have to go to the distillery to look over a few things . . ." Trailing off for a minute, he stared at her.  "Would you like to come with me?  It's probably not very interesting for you, but . . ."

"A distillery?  What do you make there?"

"Vodka," he said.

"Your family business," she concluded.  "I'd love to see it."

He didn't look as convinced as she sounded.  "It'll probably be boring," he warned her.

She giggled and lay back down again, snuggling deep into the comfort of the thick down mattress pad, the fluffy soft pillows.  "I think it'll be interesting!"  Then she pushed herself up just a little, eyes flaring wide.  "Oh, I wanted to ask.  Did Yerik go back to school?"

"Uh, no," he said, shifting around, leaning back against the headboard and stretching out his legs, crossed at the ankles.  "I sent him on a hunt, actually."

"You did?"

He grimaced, almost as though he thought that what he'd done was a bad, bad thing.  "I still don't know if it's a good idea, but . . . but I can't really tell him what he can and cannot do . . . If I don't give him the job, then he might decide to go ask one of the other tai-youkai if they have an opening . . . At least, here, I can keep an eye on him . . ."

"I think he'll be fine," she replied.  "He's smart, and he's proved that he's more than capable.  I mean, he was able to locate you without much trouble, right?  So, that has to mean something."

Fai didn't look convinced.  "It should be an easy enough hunt.  Well, as far as hunts go, anyway.  This guy's an idiot, so it shouldn't be hard to locate him or to . . ." He grimaced.  "Sorry.  You don't want to hear about this."

"Oji-chan is a hunter," she ventured.   When he looked confused, she smiled.  "His wife is the mechanic."

"Weird," he muttered, shaking his head.  "Your family is an odd one . . . Guess it makes sense, why you'd think it was perfectly all right to kidnap me, in the first place."

She snorted, but not before she felt hot color flood into her cheeks.  "I'll have you know that no one else in my family has ever appropriated another person, ever."

He snorted, and even in the dim light, she thought she saw him smile just a little.  "So, it's just you."

She nodded.  "That's right . . . Did you really have a terrible time?"

He opened his mouth, then snapped it closed and slowly shook his head.  "Truthfully?  No.  No, I didn't have a bad time," he admitted.  "It's the closest I've had to any kind of vacation in . . . years . . ."

"That's a little sad," she told him.  Suddenly, she giggled.  "Maybe I ought to appropriate you again—take you on a real vacation, Your Grace."

He grimaced.  "Don't call me that," he grumbled.  "I don't want to hear that; not from you, anyway."

"You don't?"

He shook his head.  "No."

She frowned thoughtfully, unsure why he would say that.  After all, it was the proper way to address him here.  So, why did it bother him when she did it . . .?

"Anyway, I can't just pick up and leave, as much as I'd like to sometimes.  Too many people rely on me."

He sounded so . . . resigned, as though it were something he'd come to terms with a long time ago.  "You know, why do you have to do everything alone?" she asked, thinking about her family, about the ways in which the tai-youkai had delegated responsibilities so that they weren't spread too thin.  She wasn't sure why Asia was so different, especially when it was an even bigger area to deal with.  "I mean, why don't you have generals to assist you?"

"It's not that simple," he told her with a heavy breath.  "It's not that I couldn't do that as much as there's really no one that I trust enough to allow them to have that much power."

"Is it so bad?"

Fai shot her a dark look.  "Exactly one week after I took over as tai-youkai, I was challenged for the first time—by one of my father's trusted advisors who didn't think I was strong enough to be tai-youkai."

She shook her head.  "I thought that they supported you . . ."

He seemed surprised that she'd know that much, but he shook his head.  "They pretended to," he allowed.  "Most of them, I found out later, were plotting in secret if they didn't challenge me outright.  A couple of them approached another youkai who they thought could defeat me.  They were wrong, of course, but he told me before I finished him that they had sworn their allegiance to him . . ."

"That's terrible," she murmured, reaching out to touch his hand.  He blinked, almost startled, staring down at her hand on his.  "If you could find others you could trust, though . . ."

"That's a huge, 'if'," he told her.  "If I could, then yes, I could delegate some of the responsibilities."

He sounded almost wistful, didn't he?  Whether he realized it or not, he really did wish that he could loosen his hold.  The problem wasn't that he was set to do it all himself, she thought.  No, it was more that he really, honestly, had no idea, just who he could trust . . . and that . . . It was sad . . .

It occurred to her, staring at him, just how weary he seemed.  It was the same sort of expression she'd seen on his face in the very beginning, but, she realized now, that he had lost it as the days had gone on.  That it was back already . . .?

"Fai-sama?"

"Sama," he echoed with a rather sardonic sort of chuckle.  "You know, you don't have to use that for me, either."

She smiled wanly.  "Then, what would you prefer that I call you?"

He seemed a little surprised by her frank question.  Then he shrugged.  "Just, 'Fai' would be fine, Saori," he told her.  "Just my name; that's all."

"That seems a little . . . intimate," she muttered, wrinkling her nose, willing her cheeks not to redden any more.

"Yes, well, given that you've knocked me out, kidnapped me, dragged me off to the orphanage, and then kissed me?  I'd say that calling me by name alone isn't really that much of a stretch."

She giggled at his overly dry tone.  She couldn't help it, considering she also recognized the underlying teasing quality, too.  "Okay, um, Fai . . . But I'd prefer, 'appropriated'."

"I call 'em like I see 'em, Saori," he shot back, but the stern note in his voice was entirely undermined when he chuckled a moment later.

She sighed and let her hand drop away from his.  "Fai?"

"Hmm?" he intoned, rubbing his eyes in a tired kind of way.

"Would it be too forward for me to ask you to stay with me?  Just till I fall asleep?"

"Why's that?"

She shrugged and snuggled down deeper into the bed as her eyes drifted closed.  "Too quiet at night," she murmured, feeling the edges of sleep, creeping up on her.  "Too lonely . . ."

He didn't answer her right away, but the bed shifted as he scooted down, as he stretched out beside her.  The only sounds were the crackle of the fire, the soft ticking of the mantle clock as the seconds passed by.

In the stillness, she thought that she felt his arm slip around her, drawing her closer, thought maybe she felt him sigh, and maybe, just maybe, she thought that she felt the warmth of his lips, pressed against her forehead.

And she smiled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020 ——— M
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— WhisperingWolf
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lianned88 ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _He's come to see me every night_ …?


	18. 017: Playing Hooky

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_17_** ~~  
~ ** _Playing Hooky_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Fai awoke slowly, lethargically, savoring the absolute warmth that was more of a feeling than a temperature—a sensation of well-being that surrounded him, even before he considered opening his eyes.  Caught between the two extremes, his senses were captured in the middle, deep in the realm of sensation more than cognizant thought.  It was a vaguely familiar feeling, a sense of awareness more than anything else, and in those moments, those fleeting breaths, everything in the world felt _right_ . . .

And yet, the nagging undertone still crept over him: the whispering understanding that it was too perfect to last, too fleeing to capture, and that, with every moment that passed, it was slipping away faster than he could memorize it, capture it, claim it.

Eyes flashing open, Fai stifled a sigh.  Huddled on his chest, Saori slept, her hair falling over him in glorious disarray.  Ashy strands, tangled around him—around his hand, crossed over her back, holding her close—up and over his shoulder—surrounding him in her gentle scent that was as welcome as it was unsettling.

' _I . . . I want to stay this way . . ._ '

Brow furrowing in a slight scowl that held more confusion than anything else, Fai breathed a little deeper, committed the scent of her to memory.  What was it about her?  He really couldn't figure it out, just what the compulsion really was.  Easy to say that it was just the forced time they'd been together, but was it?

He had to wonder.  If she hadn't knocked him out—if she hadn't loaded him into that van and took off with him . . . He really would have dismissed her, and he knew it.  He was set to do that at the time.  Ready to turn on his heel and walk away from her, and if he'd done that, then he never would have talked to her, never would have gotten to know her at all.

Or would he?

' _I don't know, Fai.  I mean, even at the time, there was something compelling about her.  Maybe you wouldn't have gotten to know her then, but fate has a strange way of bringing people together, too, so maybe . . ._ '

He wrinkled his nose.  ' _And you're suddenly saying that meeting her—getting to know her—was fate?_ '

' _Don't you think it could be?_ '

That was the trouble, wasn't it?  He . . . He really didn't know, just what he believed . . .

' _It's not that tough, Fai.  If you think about it, you already know some of it, don't you?  Or you're getting there, at least.  Saori . . . You had her arrested because the thought of watching her, walk out of your life, wasn't one you could stand, and that has to mean something, don't you think?  I think so, too, so it's all right.  Keep her here.  Keep her with us.  We . . . We want her close._ '

' _I . . . I do . . ._ '

His youkai-voice chuckled.  ' _You make it sound like a fate worse than death, but you know, there's something about her . . ._ '

' _Something about her . . ._ ' he mused, smiling just a little as she snuggled closer, but didn't wake.

Somehow, he had the feeling that he could get entirely too used to her proximity, and, while the idea of it didn't frighten him exactly, he'd be lying if he didn't admit to himself that the knowledge that he kept cautiously at bay—knowledge that he refused to put a name on . . . It worried him, too.

' _My life . . . It's not nearly as stable as it should be—not for someone like her . . ._ '

' _Because of the challenges?  The unrest?  It's gotten better recently.  Even so, there's nothing you can do about the fact that you're tai-youkai.  It's not going to change.  So, will you push her aside because of the idea that maybe someday, someone's going to step forward that you cannot defeat?_ '

His frown deepened as he considered his youkai's words.  That wasn't what he'd thought, _exactly_ —well, kind of . . . Even so . . .

' _Are you going to be alone forever then?  Just in case?  You know, your father never lived like that, and he wouldn't want you to, anyway._ '

Which, as far as he was concerned, wasn't really here nor there.  He knew well enough that it wasn't something his father had wanted for him.  But how fair would it be to her?  Was he supposed to tell her when the challenges came?  Was he supposed to just go and take care of it, relatively sure that he would still come back, yet knowing that all it really took was one moment of inattention, one second, one misstep . . .?

He sighed.  ' _Getting a little ahead of myself, aren't I?  I don't even know what 'this' is . . . do I?_ '

' _Well, okay, maybe it's too soon to put a real face on it,_ ' his youkai relented.  ' _Right now, it's kind of more of a feeling than something I know for sure, but the thought's there, isn't it?  I mean, you're thinking it, too . . ._ '

To tell the truth, Fai wasn't entirely certain, just what he was thinking.  Fascination?  Okay.  Preoccupation?  As much as he hated that, it was there, too.  But more than that was hard to comprehend, especially for someone like him.

' _I've only known her for what?  A couple weeks?  A little more?  Kind of jumping the proverbial gun there, aren't you?_ '

His youkai snorted at his acerbic tone.  ' _If you're this jaded at this point in your life, I shudder to think how bad you'd be in another ten years or so.  Maybe we should just be open to the idea?  Then we can see where it goes . . ._ '

"You look entirely too serious, Fai-sama . . . Why is that?"

Blinking as he met Saori's sleep-bleary gaze, he carefully blanked his expression and uttered a noncommittal grunt.  "-Sama again, is it?"

She giggled, but the sound was stifled by a yawn.  Adorable nose wrinkling as she fluttered a hand over her gaping mouth, she blinked quickly to dispel the moisture that sprang into her eyes.  "It's proper," she told him, crossing her hands on his chest, resting her chin on top of them.  "Oh, are you still going to take me to your distillery?"

Slowly shaking his head, Fai heaved a long-suffering sigh designed to let her know just how put out he felt over the whole thing.  "You just woke up, and you're ready to run out the door?"

She smiled.  "Yes!  Well, after I get a shower and maybe something to eat . . ." Suddenly, she sat up, turning her head to stare at the little table near the window.  "Hmm . . . Usually, someone's brought my breakfast by now . . ." she mused, more to herself than to him.

He snorted again.  "Usually, I get up long before now," he grumbled, "and since you were laying on me, I haven't had a chance to go get your breakfast made."

She stopped, her back stiffening, as she slowly turned her head to peer over her shoulder at him.  "You . . . make my breakfast every morning?" she asked quietly.

He grunted.  "And lunch and dinner," he muttered, tossing his legs off the bed as he sat up and scooted closer to the edge.

He heard her gasp, but he didn't think much of it, planting his fists against the mattress to pushing himself to his feet.  She caught his wrist.  "Thank you," she said without letting go.

He opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it closed at the very definite warmth in her gaze when he looked at her.  "You're . . . welcome," he mumbled instead.  "Go take your shower.  I'll find something for you to eat."

She giggled once more, tugging on his wrist as she clamored to her knees.  The kiss she planted on his cheek was quick and fleeting, and moments later, she was off the bed and speeding toward the bathroom without even a backward glance as she closed the door behind herself, leaving Fai alone, standing where she'd left him, a wide-eyed and almost perplexed expression on his face.

He stared at the closed bathroom door, a thoughtful scowl on his face as he tried to make sense of it—of her.  All he heard was the ticking of the clock on the mantle.

All he felt was the hammering of his heart against his ribcage.

 

* * *

 

 

Rinji slipped out the French doors that led to the vast and beautiful gardens behind the Inutaisho mansion on the outskirts of Tokyo.  Scanning the area with a dark scowl, he draped his hands on his lean hips, black lawn shirt flattening against his broad chest, molding the fabric to his body as the spring breeze ruffled his hair with invisible fingers.

He spotted his grandparents as they wandered through an opening in the tall hedges, both of them ambling along in companionable step.  Sesshoumaru leaned down slightly, inclining his head toward his mate, the ever-formidable matriarch of the Inutaisho clan, and Kagura murmured to him in hushed tones that didn't reach Rinji's ears.

Digging his hands into his pockets as Sesshoumaru spotted him on the patio, Rinji inclined his head in silent greeting and stood back to wait.

"Rinji!" Kagura greeted, breaking away from her mate's side to hurry up the stone steps, arms outstretched wide to hug her grandson.  "And here, I thought you'd forgotten your old obaa-chan!"

Smiling indulgently at her not-so-gentle scolding, he gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek as she offered him a quick hug.  She kissed him back then hesitated a moment, gently wiping lingering lipstick from his face like she used to wipe away a smudge of dirt when he was little more than a pup.  "Let me go get you some tea," she said, hurrying toward the doors.

He nodded and chuckled, watching her hasty retreat, before turning back to face Sesshoumaru as he climbed the stairs.  Smile fading, Rinji bowed low in greeting.  "Ojii-sama," he said.

Waving off the formality that Rinji always used by didn't need to, Sesshoumaru led the way to a large marble table off to the side.  "Kagura seems to think this is a social call, but since you addressed me so, then I take it that she's wrong."

Reining in the desire to wince, Rinji nodded once instead, settling into a chair as he pulled out his phone and dialed his father's number.  "I just wanted to explain this one time," he said, gesturing at the phone as the sound of ringing filled the air.

"Rinji," Seiji said when the call connected, his voice loud and clear over the speaker connection.

"Otou-san . . . How is your trip going?"

Seiji sighed.  "I really hate Great Britain," he remarked dryly.  "Your mother, of course, is having a wonderful time.  She's out, spending obscene amounts of money in London's best shops at the moment . . ."

"No run-ins with any of MacDonnough's people, I trust?" Sesshoumaru asked mildly.

Seiji snorted.  "Nope.  Actually, he did send us a bouquet of flowers, if you can feature that," he replied.

Rinji bit his lip, wondering just how much yelling he was about to hear, and he opened his mouth to interrupt the small talk, only to be cut off when the door smacked open and Izayoi InuYasha stomped outside.

"Oi, bastard!  What the hell is this?" he demanded without preamble, waiving a piece of paper in front of Sesshoumaru's face.

Sesshoumaru quirked an eyebrow, casting his half-brother a very bland stare—one that Rinji recognized instantly as the one expression that was designed specifically to piss off the hanyou instantly.  "Baka, can you not tell that I'm in the middle of something?"

InuYasha snorted, tossing down the paper on the table so that he could cross his arms stubbornly over his chest.  "Keh!  Just tell me what the fuck this is supposed to mean," he growled.

Taking his time, Sesshoumaru slowly, deliberately, lifted the paper and scanned it over.  "It says that the grant for the martial arts department is being delayed by a few months due to an accounting error—which should be entirely self-explanatory.  Can't you read?"

"How 'bout I take Tetsusaiga and shove it right up your—?"

"Hello, jiji," Seiji added rather dryly.

InuYasha snorted but raised an eyebrow at the phone.  "Family pow-wow?" he demanded.

Rinji stifled another sigh.  "I thought it best if I talked to you all at once," he cut in, rubbing his eyes with a weary hand.  "I'm not going to try to beat around the bush with it.  Saori's missing."

Dead silence greeted his words.  For a very long and pregnant moment, no one said a thing.

" _What?_ " Seiji growled.

"How do you know?" Sesshoumaru demanded.

"Where the fuck is she?" InuYasha snarled.

"She called last week; said that she was being let go from her job—downsizing, she said.  She said she was flying back in a day or so, but she never called to tell me when, and when I've tried to call her, I keep getting sent straight to voicemail," Rinji explained.

"And why am I just now hearing about this, Rinji?" Seiji asked in a deadly quiet voice, which meant that his father was ready to rip him to shreds.

"Because I was trying to reach her," he explained.  "Then yesterday, I got a text from her phone that said she wasn't allowed use of a phone and wouldn't be until she was released."

"Released?  From where?" InuYasha bellowed.

Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes.  "Tell us everything, Rinji," he prompted, kicking a chair out on the opposite side of the table and pinning InuYasha with a very pointed look.  The hanyou snorted loudly, but stomped around the table and threw himself into the chair.

Rinji sighed.  "She . . . She called me a few weeks ago," he admitted.  "Said she . . ." He winced and sighed again since he figured the roof was about to blow completely off of Tokyo, if not all of Japan . . . "She . . . kidnapped . . . the Asian tai-youkai . . ."

"She . . . _what?_ " Sesshoumaru blurted.

"He was going to defund the orphanage, so she went there to talk to him, and apparently, he ended up unconscious—the van door fell on him—so she thought it'd be best to load him into the van and take off with him to show him the orphanage before he actually made good on his threat," Rinji explained.  "She called me to ask me what she ought to do, which I told her that she needed to let him go, but she had this idea in her head that she could convince him not to defund the home if she took him there . . ."

"Keh!" InuYasha grunted, his golden eyes suspiciously bright.  "That's my girl!"

"Baka," Sesshoumaru growled, glaring at his half-brother yet again before turning that glower onto his grandson.  "And why is this the first we're hearing about it?"

Rinji rolled his eyes.  "She begged me not to tell you because she thought you'd tell her to take him back home."

Sesshoumaru let out a very loud, very long sigh as he dropped his forehead into a propped hand—a very strange sound, coming from that particular being.  "Kami . . ."

"Where.  Is.  She.  Now?" Seiji growled.

"I . . . I have reason to believe that Fai-sama has her," Rinji concluded.  "I mean, it makes the most sense."

"I'm coming home," Seiji said.

"Stay where you are," Sesshoumaru interjected.  "I'll take care of this."

"It's not something that the Inu no Taisho needs to concern himself with," Seiji argued.

Sesshoumaru lifted his chin, his amber eyes alit with a cold and calculating light.  "One has nothing to do with the other," he said.  "The Inu no Taisho isn't going.  Ojii-chan is."

"And so is obaa-chan."

Glancing over his shoulder, Rinji sighed when he spotted his grandmother, standing in the doorway, her aura crackling around her as she flicked open her fans and stared defiantly at her mate.

"Kagura—"

"Are you really going to stand there and argue with me?  You'll lose, by the way . . . Or are you going to call and get the plane ready?"

Sesshoumaru opened his mouth to argue with her, but he snapped it closed again a moment later when she arched a midnight brow at him.  With a muttered curse, he dug his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the numbers instead . . .

 

* * *

 

 

' _In the realm of your best ideas, this was not one of them._ '

Stifling a sigh as Fai carried Saori into the castle and past a very puzzled-looking butler, he said nothing as the woman giggled, clinging to him as she leaned away unsteadily and giggled some more.  "You're so strong, Fai-sama!" she slurred.  He leaned to the side, jostling her upright once more before she toppled right out of his arms.  "Ivan-san's such a lovely man!  I _love_ him!" she gushed.

"You can love him from afar," Fai growled, taking the stairs, two at a time in his haste to get her to her room.  "And you know, you really need to learn not to kiss every man you meet."

"Who did I kiss?" she asked quizzically, her head lolling back as she stared up at him.

He grunted.  "Ivan," he reminded her.  "Three times."

"Oh-h-h-h-h," she breathed.  "I did, didn't I?"

He snorted.

Oh, it had started out innocently enough.  After breakfast, he'd taken her to the distillery, and Ivan Yasyovich, the manager of the place, absolutely mesmerized by Saori, and why not, had been more than happy to give her the grand tour while Fai sat down in the office, going over the projections that were the reason he'd gone, in the first place.  What he hadn't anticipated was that Ivan would also be more than willing to give her samples of the different vodkas, and, more to the point, he hadn't bothered to tell Saori that she should just swish them around her mouth then spit them out.  Nope, and by the time Fai had found them?  Saori was drunk.  Beyond drunk.  As a skunk, as the old phrase went . . .

"I really like your vodka," she slurred as he set her on her feet in her room.  She held onto him, her arms still locked around his neck in an entirely boneless kind of way.  " _Oishii-i-i-i_ . . ." She gasped.  "Do you have some here?  That fruity one?"

"Yeah, you're not getting more of that right now," he muttered, reaching around to grasp her wrists and gently tug them apart.  "I think you'd do better to sleep it off."

"Hmm, is Ivan-san married?"

Fai stopped dead, narrowing his eyes on her.  "Why?  Why do you want to know that?"

She shrugged moments before literally falling onto the bed.  Staring up at him through half-closed eyes, she giggled again.  "He's a lovely man!  Just lovely!  Don't you think he’s lovely?"

"No, I don't," Fai growled.  "Anyway, he's too damn old for the likes of you."

She wrinkled her nose.  "You're being kind of grouchy, Your Grace," she pointed out in a haughty tone.  "Besides, I didn't think he'd marry me."

"Then why do you want to know?"

She shrugged, letting her bent arms fall by her sides against the mattress.  He frowned at her, trying not to notice how low the scooped neckline of the simple blouse she wore had managed to slip down a little lower, exposing the very pretty edging of white lace of her bra.  "I have a friend who would like him," she said.  "Guys don't notice me.  They never have . . ."

"Is that right?" he countered, leaning against the bed post, arms crossed over his chest.  "I doubt that."

She blinked slowly, gray eyes taking on a slightly darker hue.  "The guy I liked in school never did," she maintained.  "He never knew I was even alive . . ."

"I find that hard to believe," Fai said, "and if he didn't, then that's his own loss, isn't it?"

She smiled, but the smile seemed a little sad, in his estimation.  "You're sweet, Fai-sama . . . I'm sorry I kidnapped you, after all . . ."

He chuckled.  "Appropriated," he corrected her.  "I'm . . . I'm not sorry that you did."

"You're not?"

He shook his head.  "No.  I . . . I had a better time, hiking through the forest with you, than I've had in quite awhile."

She snorted, and as she blinked, her eyelids seemed to get heavier and heavier.  "Now I know you're lying," she countered.  "It's sweet of you to say, though . . ."

Letting out a deep breath, he pushed away from the post and reached for the blanket to pull them up over her.  "Go to sleep, Saori," he said quietly.

"You're not going to lay down?"

For a brief moment, he wished that he could.  But it was still early enough that he could easily get a few hours' work in before he was ready to go to sleep.  "I'm going to go down to my office," he told her.  "I'll . . . I'll check in on you later."

"O . . . kay," she murmured, already well on her way to a peaceful slumber.

He watched her for another long minute before he forced himself to leave her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Oishii_** _: Japanese meaning 'delicious'_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Charity (I forgot my mmorg login)
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Amanda Gauger ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— WhisperingWolf ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** lovethedogs ——— cutechick18 ——— lianned88
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _I'm not drunk_ …!


	19. 018: Disappearance

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_18_** ~~  
~ ** _Disappearance_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori sat on the stone bench, staring without seeing as the almost hazy afternoon sun soaked into her skin.  It was a beautiful day, and yet, it was completely lost on her.  The call of the birds, the vivid colors and vibrant crispness in the air, the feeling of life that surrounded her completely bypassed her as an insular thought spun around her brain, unwilling to let go of her, it held her so tightly . . .

Letting out a deep breath that sent her bangs flying upward, she set aside the book she'd borrowed from the prodigious shelf in the expansive library.  She'd meant to come out here, to get some fresh air as she read, as she tried to distract herself from the questions that plagued her.

Just where was Fai?

She frowned.  She didn't remember much about the afternoon or evening after he'd taken her to visit the distillery.  To be honest, she hadn't realized that she could get that drunk.  It hadn't happened to her before—at least, not like that.  She’d gone out drinking many times with her college friends, with family at times, but that day?  She vaguely remembered Ivan, telling her that the vodka that she'd been sampling hadn't yet been processed.  Most of it, Ivan had said, was diluted to bring the proof down slightly before bottling.

She did, however, remember waking up somewhere around two in the morning and spending the next hour or so, bent over the toilet, puking, to the point that she actually was rather thankful that Fai wasn't there.

Then she'd spent the rest of the day yesterday, suffering a hangover that convinced her that she was never, ever drinking vodka again.  She'd fallen asleep, somewhere around nine last night, and when she'd woken up this morning, she was relieved to find that she felt almost normal again . . .

But that was when she'd realized that she hadn't seen Fai since he'd put her to bed, and she'd gathered the courage to ask Vasili where he was . . .

“ _Is there something you require?” the old butler asked after Saori had followed him around for a few minutes_.

 _Biding her time, wringing her hands, she had been trying to decide just how to state her question.  “Oh, um . . . I just wondered if you knew where Fai-sama is?_ ”

 _He stopped in the middle of his task of sorting through the day’s correspondence to quirk an eyebrow at her, and it seemed to her that it took him an inordinately long time to answer.  “I do not know, Miss.”  Then he turned his attention back to his task, summarily dismissing her entirely_.

“ _He . . . He didn’t mention anything to you?” she pressed.  “I mean, it’s just that_ —”

 _Staring at her through narrowed eyes for a long moment, he managed a very tolerant little smile that reminded her of the kind of expression one would get when dealing with an obstinate child.  “If His Grace wished for you to know, I imagine he would have told you,” he replied_.

Saori wrinkled her nose, her expression darkening as she scanned the empty landscape once more.  She'd gotten no answers, but she could tell that Fai wasn't on the estate.

' _Well, it isn't like you really have the right to know where he is all the time,_ ' her youkai-voice pointed out slowly, reasonably.

She knew that.  Of course, she did.  The knowledge didn't really help her, though.  Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if Yerik were around at least, but . . .

And Yerik . . . He'd been gone over a week now, and that, too, bothered her.  It shouldn't, maybe, but it did.  Given that she had nothing at all to distract her, her often-times overactive imagination was working overtime on that front, as well.  Sure, Fai had admitted that Yerik was skilled enough to be a hunter.  That didn't mean that things couldn't happen, and, considering it was his first real hunt, any number of possibilities crept into her thoughts, too . . .

' _Yerik will be fine, and even if he isn't, it really isn't your concern._ '

Making a face at her youkai's blunt, if not entirely frank, supposition, Saori's frown darkened.  ' _He's a friend—well, kind of . . . and he's Fai-sama's brother, so . . ._ '

' _Maybe, but don't forget, you're here to be punished._ '

' _I know . . ._ '

' _Do you?  Anyway, he shouldn't be gone long.  At least, I hope not . . ._ '

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that Fai just wasn't the type to take off without a word, either, and that, more than anything else, bothered her.

So, where was he . . .?

The sound of blatant throat-clearing drew her attention.  Vasili bowed just a little when she finally looked at him.  "Your meal is ready," he said, clenching his hands before himself.  "If you wish, I can see that you're served on the veranda."

"Oh, uh, thank you," she said, retrieving the book as she rose to her feet.  "That would be fine."

"Very well," he said, turning to go.

"Have you . . .?  Have you heard from His Grace?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Vasili stopped, turned halfway.  She couldn't rightfully interpret the expression on his face, in his eyes.  "I have not," he told her.  Then he nodded at her once more and started away again.

She sighed, falling into step behind the butler.  She didn't think he was lying.  She almost wished he were.  Then she'd have a reason to be mad at him, at least . . .

 

* * *

 

 

"So, you're the fearsome tai-youkai . . . Not much to you, is there?"

Fai said nothing as he slowly regarded the ragged-looking inu-youkai that stood across from him.  He was tired, having driven all night to reach the spot where Dominick Mastoyev had demanded that he meet him: an abandoned rock quarry near the Mongolian border.  "You issued me a challenge," Fai said, getting right to the point as he crossed his arms over his chest, absently feeling the weight of _Kamennyy-Nozh_ , hanging from the ancient ash wood scabbard on his hip.

Dominick laughed heartily, mud brown hair tossed in the wind.  "I will be the tai-youkai," he predicted.  "Your experience is nothing compared to mine!"

He'd stood here before—maybe not in this exact spot—but on ground where the air was rife with the stagnant hatred, misplaced pride.  It was that same kind of misplaced pride that tended to weaken greater opponents, and Fai knew it well.  Standing straight and proud, he waited, his calm an absolute barrier against Dominick's unsettled youki that rippled and surged violently, almost wantonly, in the air around him.  " _Don't ever let your mind get away from you, Faine.  A clear mind is your friend, your confidant.  Let it all roll off your back like water in the springtime and retain your calm, always . . ._ "

Sound advice, that was.  It had served Fai well in the years since he'd become tai-youkai.

He'd heard the rumors about this particular youkai.  He was strong, they said.  He thought that Fai was too young, too wet behind the ears to be an effective leader.  He didn't want to effectively bow and grovel before a pup younger than his own children, he'd said.  Maybe that was why Fai wasn't entirely surprised when Vasili had handed him the missive that had arrived while he was at the distillery with Saori.  It didn't really matter.  The end result would have to be the same.

"You think that the fact that you're older than me has any bearing on whether or not I'm a decent tai-youkai?  It doesn't," Fai remarked.  "It has nothing to do with it, at all."

Dominick snorted indelicately.  "You and your ilk!  You've all forgotten the old days!" he scoffed.  "The office of the tai-youkai was never meant to been a familial thing!  It bends to the mightiest!  You . . . You're simply caught in the crossfire.  It was your bad luck to be handed the title that should have gone to the strongest upon your father's demise.  Concede, and you can walk away: disgraced but alive.  It's your choice, _Your Grace_."

"Many others have made the mistake of underestimating me," Fai replied.  "Are you sure you want to join their ranks?  They're all dead now, you know."

Eyes flashing as the air surrounding him spiked with his rising ire, Dominick shot forward, flicking out his hand, unleashing a volley of wind blades from his claws that Fai neatly avoided by leaning to one side then the other before they could strike him.  His hair fluffed out, driven by the gusts of wind as they bypassed him entirely.  Uttering a derisive grunt, Dominick drew back, brought his claws down as Fai caught his wrist, spun him away in a fluid motion, knocking him back as Fai pushed away from him, lighting a few feet away.

"Give up, Dominick.  You cannot defeat me," Fai said.

"I'll see you dead!" the dog-youkai scoffed, launching himself at Fai once more, the flash of his sword little more than a blur of motion.

Fai drew his sword, grimaced when the blades met, the high-pitched groan ringing in his ears.  It was true that Fai wasn't going to win a battle of brute strength against Dominick, but he held his ground easily enough.  With a loud grunt, Dominick heaved against his sword, propelling himself back a few feet.  Then he spun around, bringing the blade up and forward.  Fai knocked it aside and righted his grip on the leather-wrapped hilt of _Kamennyy-Nozh_.

Unleashing a frustrated growl, Dominick sprang again, hammering down with a rain of blows in rapid succession.  Fai countered them all as the reverberations of each one rattled up his arm, straight to his brain, and he gritted his teeth in sheer concentration.

"Not bad, boy," Dominick gnashed out without relenting in the physical onslaught.  Eyes glowing with an almost insane kind of light, he laughed maniacally as the blows slammed down, harder and faster.

Smacking Dominick's wrist with the blunt side of his blade, Fai kicked up and out, straight into Dominick's chest, sending him staggering back.  Fai flicked his sword in a tight circle to loosen up his wrist.

Righting his stance, his outrage rife in the air, stagnating around him like a blackened pall, Dominick howled, smacking his sword against the earth, unleashing a fissure of fire and flying dirt, straight at him.  Fai echoed his movements, and the explosion where the two intercepted each other sent out a flash of light, a wave of dirt and debris as he raised his arms to shield his face.

Dominick shot through the gale.  Fai barely had time to react.  Spinning to the side to avoid the brunt of the blow, he grimaced when the youkai's claws scraped deep against his cheek.  Dominick's laugh echoed around him, an air of primitive gloating, thick and rancid.  "First blood!" he hollered, inordinately proud of himself.

Fai wiped his cheek against his shoulder.  "A few paltry scratches really aren't grounds for celebration," he pointed out mildly.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you," Dominick spat.

"If you think you can."

The older youkai sprang forward once more.  Fai gripped the hilt of his sword in both hands, bore down on it, burying the blade, deep in the earth.  The shockwave that reverberated out and away from it were akin to an earthquake as the ripples of his youki shot out of the embedded blade, surging through the ground.  Boulders on the rises of the perimeter of the old quarry shifted, tumbled, rolled down, faster and faster, a veritable landslide of pebbles and rock and stone.  Dominick barely had time to right his stance as he tried to avoid the projectiles.

He howled when a large boulder smacked into his arm, his shoulder.  Sword jarred right out of his grip, he stumbled back, directly into another boulder—not as large as the first—but traveling much faster, and he grunted when it smacked against his back.

Before he could roll over, before he could regain his footing, Fai strode over, turned him over with the toe of his shoe, stepped down hard on the youkai's chest, leveling his sword at his throat.  Something about the unfairness of it occurred to him in a vague sort of way.  Even so, it wouldn't matter in the end.

"Do you have anything you want to say to me before you die?" Fai asked, his voice calmer, entirely even and completely at odds with the sense of fairness that was eating at him.  Cutting someone down like this?  It wasn't sitting well with him . . .

Dominick half-groaned, half-laughed.  "You think you've won, do you?" he scoffed.  "Think again!"

Hopping back, doubling over, Fai shook his head as the handful of dirt flew into his face.  He couldn't open his eyes, couldn't see a thing as tears spilled over, as his body furiously worked to rid itself of the debris.

A white-hot pain ignited in his chest as he fell back with a gasp, a grunt.  Rolling to his feet, he reacted on instinct, springing out of the way mere breaths before the heavy metal thud of Dominick's sword echoed in the air where he had been.

Shaking his head, forcing his eyes open, Fai couldn't make out anything in the bleariness of his wavering vision.  Stretching out his youki, he dodged another round of attacks as blood soaked his shirt, dripped onto the ground.  He didn't know where his sword was, but he couldn't have used it, even if he wanted to.  All he could do was buy himself a few minutes in hopes that his vision would clear.

"You're a fool!" Dominick spat, his voice sounding entirely triumphant.  "Putting trust where you have no business believing . . . It'll be your end."

"What are you saying?" he demanded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.  "What are you babbling about?"

Dominick's laugh was entirely facetious, as bitter as it was full of loathing.  "You're boring.  I just want you to _die!_ "

Launching himself forward as he bellowed the rest of his words, Dominick closed in fast.  Fai couldn't see him, but he could feel him.  Focusing his youki, he drew back, knowing that this fight would end here, one way or the other.  A sudden flash—stormy grey eyes with just a hint of blue—wavered before him, and he steeled his resolve.  ‘ _Saori_ . . .’ One of them was not walking away, and he would be damned if that one would be him . . .

Something about the simple thought of her was enough to calm him, to restore the iron-clad conviction of his station.  He could feel Dominick's approach.  Springing forward, swinging his fist, he felt the flesh give way to his fingers, to his claws.  It was only a second, a blink, a breath, and yet, he could feel it all in exquisite and finite detail: the sinew of muscles, tearing under his assault, the squish of tissue, the scrape of shattering bone . . . He felt the crazy-mad thud of Dominick's heart as he wrapped his fist around it, as he squeezed it with everything he had, as the youkai's blood spiraled down his arm, flowed from his elbow in a river of macabre rain.  In the ring of his vision, he saw the dilation of Dominick's eyes, the slack-jawed shock as the light in his gaze faded.

He barely had time to close his eyes, to whip his head to the side as Dominick's body exploded in a violent gust of wind and dust and light . . .

Drawing a few labored breaths, Fai blinked as a dull silence fell over the old quarry.  The light breeze returned, and slowly, the sounds of birds picked up.  Blinking hard as he slowly shifted his gaze at the now-empty area, Fai swallowed hard, shook his arm, sending sprays of blood—mostly Dominick's—misting down.

" _Putting trust where you have no business believing . . . It'll be your end_."

' _What did he . . .?  What did he mean . . .?_ '

There was no answer.  Even his youkai-voice remained silent.  Glancing down at his torn chest, Fai grimaced.  The cut was clean enough and wasn't actually deep, thank God.  Dominique's one chance to finish him off, and he'd failed magnificently.  His eyes actually hurt more than the paltry cut on his chest, and he let out a deep breath as he set out to locate his sword . . .

 

* * *

 

 

It was late.

Fai had no idea what time it was.  He didn't actually remember, driving home, for that matter.

By the time he stumbled through the front doors, greeted by Vasili, who informed him that he had a hot bath waiting for him in his chambers, Fai felt close to catatonic, grunting out some terse answer that really didn't mean anything as he followed the butler up the stairs and down the corridor that led to his room.

The fire had been lit on the hearth, his bed was already turned down, waiting for him, along with a glass of vodka on the nightstand.  Fai didn't really notice any of it except for the silver dome covered plate on the small table near the windows.  He said nothing, but he did grab a slice of black bread, realizing vaguely that he hadn't actually eaten a thing in over two days.

Sure enough, the antique, claw-footed tub situated in the center of Fai's bathroom was full, steam rising off the water in a wholly inviting kind of way.  Though he didn't use the bath that often, the soreness in his body welcomed the idea as he wolfed down the bread in two large bites.

"Do you require anything else, Your Grace?" Vasili asked from the doorway.

Glancing over his shoulder as he peeled off the shirt that was sticking to him, he shook his head.  "No, Vasili.  You're excused for the night."

The butler offered him a low bow before slipping out of the doorway and out of the bedroom beyond.

It didn't take long for Fai to scrub himself down in the shower.  With a grimace and an unsolicited groan, he sank into the still-hot water in the tub.  Vasili had added some oils and herbs to it, and he closed his eyes, head falling back, as he felt himself relax just a little for the first time in days.

He'd tried not to think too hard about the altercation on the way home.  There'd be time enough to hash it over tomorrow.  Tonight . . .?

"He ruined your face."

Blinking as he forced his eyes open in time to watch as Yerik wandered into the bathroom, settling on a short stool beside the tub, Fai shrugged.  "It'll heal," he muttered, taking the glass of vodka that his brother offered him.  "Your hunt?"

"Silenced," he replied.  "You should have waited for me."

"There was nothing you could have done, Yerik," Fai replied dryly.  "It was a formal challenge."

"Maybe not, but I could have gone with you.  You look like hell warmed over."

"It's fine," Fai insisted, draining the vodka and handing the glass back.  "It's done, so let it go."

Yerik nodded slowly, stretching out his long legs, crossing his ankles, his heels propped on the floor.  "Saori's a bit out of sorts," he ventured a little too casually.  "You didn't tell her where you were going."  It wasn't a question.

"She was drunk," Fai replied almost defensively.  "I took her to the distillery, and she sampled a few too many drinks.  Anyway, I didn't have time to wait till she sobered up to tell her, and even then, she didn't need to know."

"Except she isn't stupid.  She didn't say, but I guess she knows where you went—in a vague sense, anyway."

"I didn't have a choice, Yerik.  It's not like I can pick and choose when I get to be tai-youkai and when I don't."

Yerik nodded.  "I realize that," he said.  "She was worried— _worried_.  Worried enough that she didn't even ask me where I was or what I was doing."

"She knew where you were," Fai replied.  "I told her.  Maybe she just didn't care if you got hurt or not.  Did you think of that?"

"Well, now, that was mean," Yerik protested with a soft chuckle.  "Look, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.  I'll fill you in on the details of the hunt tomorrow.  Fair?"

"Okay," Fai agreed, closing his eyes again.

He felt his brother's retreat more than heard, and that was fine.  Letting out a deep breath, he concentrated instead on the feel of the oils and herbs as they soaked into his skin, as they melted away the tension and soreness that had set in during the drive back to the castle.

It occurred to him that he ought to get out of the tub, but he didn't.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice that sounded entirely like his mother whispered to him, reminded him that he could very easily drown if he fell asleep in the tub.  Too bad it was calm, comfortable, soothing . . .

The feel of hands, rubbing the muscles of his shoulders near his neck, however, drew him out of the lull that he'd slipped into, and he opened his eyes, only to see Saori's face, hovering above him, a thoughtful frown drawing her brows together.  Her gaze was fixed on the cuts on his cheek, and he tried to smile for her benefit.  It didn't really work.

"Your muscles are really tight," she commented quietly, as though she were afraid of shattering the comfortable silence.

"A little," he allowed.  "That . . . feels good . . ."

"Have you cleaned those?" she asked, nodding at his face.

"In the shower," he told her.

She didn't look impressed with his claim.  "Do you have a first aid kit?  Where is it?  I'll clean those for you, and—"

"I don't have one," he told her to forestall the fussing tornado he could feel, gathering around the edges.  "It's fine."

"It's not fine," she insisted.  "I think I might have seen some little ears while I was exploring the grounds, and—"

"Little ears?" he interrupted.

She blinked and gave a little shrug.  "I don't know the proper name," she told him.  "I always called it that because it looked just like tiny ears . . ." Waving a hand, she shook her head.  "Anyway, if I can find it, I can create a poultice that'll draw out any infection, and—"

"And you're not going out there to find little ears right now.  It's the dead of night, and I swear, I'm fine," he told her.

She looked like she wanted to argue with him, but she heaved a sigh designed to let him know just how irritated she really was and kept rubbing his shoulders instead.  "He wasn't poison or anything, was he?"

"No, he wasn't," Fai told her, pulling himself up just enough to let her rub the back of his shoulders.

"Keh," she intoned.  "You know, I could have gone with you," she pointed out.  "I can fight, too . . ."

"It was a challenge, Saori.  You couldn't have interfered."

She bit her lip, shook her head.  "But you shouldn't have gone alone," she insisted quietly.  "What if you get a challenge, and they fight dirty?  It's happened before, you know . . . What if they bring along someone else, someone who tries to double team you?"

"Then they forfeit their lives," he responded a little too rationally.  "It's part of the job.  I cannot pick and choose."

She didn't look any happier about that.  "I know what it means," she told him.  "I know that you can't ignore a challenge.  I know that.  I just . . ."

"You don't like it," he finished for her.  "I'm sorry."

She blinked, her gaze lightening by degrees.  "You . . . are . . .?"

He nodded slowly.  "I didn't mean to worry you.

She digested that for a long moment, and then she nodded.  "Don't do it again, Fai-sama."

He chuckled then sighed when she found a particularly tight muscle.  "I won't, Saori."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Kamennyy-Nozh_** _: Stone Blade; Fai's legacy sword_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** M ——— xSerenityx202 ——— Silent Reader ——— Goldeninugoddess
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _Wait … Why did I just apologize for doing my job_ …?


	20. 019: Pensive

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_19_** ~~  
~ ** _Pensive_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori awoke with a smile on her face as she blinked and opened her eyes to the bright light of day.  It took all of ten seconds for her to realize a couple things: number one, she was cuddled up next to Fai, which was entirely too nice, and number two?

He was wearing nothing at all.

The towel that he'd wrapped around his waist after his bath had worked itself loose.  It was crumpled in a forgotten heap underneath them.  She'd thought about the idea that he really ought to put on something last night, but he'd been so tired, she hadn't had the heart to wake him.  After all, towels _never_ worked themselves loose, now did they?  Oh, kami, no!  Not ever.  Except . . .

Except they apparently _did_.

Biting her lip, she tried to scoot a little farther away from him, only for his arms to tighten around her, locking her effectively into place.  Well, she probably would be able to gain her freedom, but not without waking him, and that . . .

' _Quit blushing!  He's asleep, and it's not like you're_ looking _at . . . anything . . . so, there's no reason at all to be embarrassed!_ ' she scolded herself.  It had the exact opposite effect, though, and the trace heat in her cheeks blossomed into a raging inferno under her skin.

' _I don't know, Saori.  I mean, would it really hurt anything if you took a quick peek?  He won't even know!_ '

' _Shut up—shut up—shut up!_ '

' _Yeah, but you remember that one morning while you were traveling to the orphanage, don’t you?  That was entirely impressive, right?  Don't you want to_ see _what you felt then. . .?_ '

' _No!  Absolutely not!  That would be taking complete advantage of the situation!  How would I feel if he peeked at me?  I mean, not that he would.  He wouldn't.  Why would he?  Anyway, no!  I'm not . . ._ ' Glancing wildly around the room, trying to look anywhere but _there_ , she gasped in the quiet.  Eyes flicking over him, only to dart right back again to that part of him that was so blatantly presented to her, she sucked in a sharp breath.  His body wasn't overly bulky like her cousin, Bas, but he was very well defined, very well proportioned.  Even in his relaxed state, his body held a certain kind of symmetry that the stillness couldn't touch.  The long cut across his chest was almost healed over, and even that wasn't enough to detract from his overall impact . . . ' _O-O-Oh . . . He's . . . He's beautiful . . ._ '

Her youkai-voice chuckled.  ' _Yeah, he is!_ '

' _Even so . . . I really shouldn't be staring at him like this . . . It's . . . It's wrong, isn't it?_ '

' _And what's wrong with it?  You're not hurting anyone, and he's holding onto you, so it's not like you can just get up and move away, even if you wanted to.  It's kind of his own fault, don't you think?_ '

Somehow, that bit of logic really seemed messed up, in Saori's opinion.  Using her toes to latch onto the blanket that had gotten shoved to the bottom of the bed, she managed to tug it up over him with a little maneuvering, which really didn't do anything to quell the butterflies that were churning her belly in a wholly delicious kind of way, and she was appalled when she realized that her breathing was stunted, heavy.

"Saori?  Are you all right?"

Smothering a gasp when Fai's deep, but soft voice broke the stillness, she shot him a wild-eyed look as she very quickly shook her head.  "What?  Me?  Fine, fine . . . Did you sleep well, Fai-sama?"

He grunted, turning his face away and closing his eyes again.  "Till you added the, '-sama', yes."

Frowning when she caught sight of the scratches on his cheek, she wiggled around, pulling herself upward to examine them closer.  He grunted again, but didn't try to stop her.  "They're healing well," she allowed, albeit grudgingly.  "I'll look for some of the little ears today . . ."

"It's fine," he insisted mildly.

"It just takes a little infection, you know.  You fought valiantly, so the last thing you want is to be laid low by something as ridiculous as that, right?"

"I assure you, I'm fine, and—" Cutting himself off abruptly, he propped himself up on his elbows.  " _Valiantly?_ " he echoed, cocking an eyebrow at her.

She nodded.  "In my head, you were very valiant," she assured him.

He snorted, flopping down once more.  "He put up a decent fight," Fai muttered.

"In my head, you rode in on your huge and hulking warhorse—a thick and broad black beast of a horse that allows no one near him but you—we'll call him, 'Odin'—"

"I don't have a horse," he told her.

She ignored him.  "—With the sun, reflecting off your shiny armor, blinding your opponent in all your glory—"

"Good God."

"—Hefting your sword—Fai-sama?  Do you have a sword?"

He sighed.  "Yes, the one factual part of your story."

She nodded, pleased with the idea of Fai with his sword held aloft.  "—Hefting your mighty sword, high in the air . . . ' _Bow before me, infidel!_ '" she continued in as deep and booming a voice that she possibly could.

"Okay, I did _not_ say that," he protested.

She nodded again.   "In my head, you did."

He snorted.  "You've been reading one too many of those tawdry, bodice-ripping romance novels, haven't you?"

She gave a little shrug as she giggled.  "Not one!"

Fai heaved another sigh.  "All right.  Go on with your fabrication since it seems to please you to do so."

Satisfied that he was finally listening, she scooted around to sit on her knees, clapping her hands happily as she considered the rest of her story.  "So, you charge in, Odin's mane and tail majestically blowing in the breeze, and you lower your sword to point at your opponent.  ' _I am your tai-youkai!  How dare you challenge me?_ ' you demand, your eyes shooting fire as you sit, straight and proud in the saddle—"

"I really don't have a horse, Saori, and even if I did, I would never name him, 'Odin', for God's sake."

She ignored him.  "It was very noble of you to allow him to take a couple swings at you before you defeated him," she went on.

He rolled his eyes, slowly shook his head.  "Is that what you think?  I let him have at me a couple times?"

"Well, you're so strong and so brave and so talented that there's really no other way he could have hurt you, so, not only are you those things, but you're also very noble, too."

"Hardly," he scoffed, reaching out to brush her hair back out of her face.  "He threw a handful of dirt in my eyes, though . . ."

She wasn't able to hide the wince that flickered over her features.  She rather didn't need to know that, not really.  The scenarios that she'd already considered had been harsh enough . . .

He sighed.  "As you can see, I'm fine," he told her.  "He couldn’t defeat me, even though he tried to fight dirty."

"I . . . I know," she whispered, her gaze dropping to her hands, folded together neatly in her lap.  Then she lifted her chin, forced a bright smile that was for his benefit alone.  "I'm going to go get dressed . . . You've got work to do, don't you?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but Saori was faster.  Scooting off the bed, she darted over to the door and let herself out of his room.

Once in the hallway, she leaned back against the closed door for a minute, gnawing on her lip as she tried to force back the feeling that she was being silly, a coward . . .

‘ _And just why are you freaking out so badly right now?  You know, don’t you, that he was very, very naked last night in that tub,_ ’ her youkai-voice reminded her.

She made a face.  Of course, she knew that, but Yerik had come to her room, told her that Fai was injured, that he might need her assistance, and that was what had made up her mind.  Oh, she’d known the very moment he’d stepped inside the castle.  So attuned she was to him that she’d simply known, and, while she didn’t stop to question why that would be, she also hadn’t thought twice about seeking Fai out once Yerik left her room again, either . . . ‘ _It’s . . . It’s . . . Oh, it’s everything,_ ’ she said, unable to put into words, just what it was that bothered her.  ‘ _It wasn’t his lack of clothing that made me leave.  I just . . . I-I mean, he’s fine, sure, and . . . and I know that, but . . ._ ’

' _Any tai-youkai is going to be challenged at one point or another,_ ' her youkai-voice pointed out in an entirely philosophical tone.  ' _You, of all people, know that._ '

She grimaced.  True, she did know that.  Toga had been challenged a few years ago, and she remembered it.  More to the point, she remembered Sierra-oba-chan's face—the fear that she tried to hide—the fear that everyone else pretended not to see while they'd waited for him to walk through the door . . . He hadn't been challenged since, but that one time was enough.

She did know, and at that time, she thought that she understood, that she empathized with her aunt's concerns.  She didn't, though.  She hadn't known a damn thing.

She was starting to now.

 

* * *

 

 

Heaving a sigh as he pushed aside Yerik's official report of the hunt, Fai rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes, slowly dragging his hand down his face.  It was well-done, and, judging from the overall report, he couldn't find any fault with his brother's first assignment, and, if he were to be completely honest, he'd have to admit that he had hoped on some level that he could find fault in the way Yerik had conducted the hunt and ultimately, the outcome of it.  At least then, he could have argued his case that Yerik was just not a hunter . . .

All of his work was done for the day.

Pushing himself out of his chair, he rounded the desk, ambled over to the window.  The last time he'd looked out, he'd spotted Yerik, sparring with Saori in the garden behind the castle, but that was a while ago, so it wasn't surprising that they weren't still at it.

Rubbing idly at the laceration on his chest, he made a face.  It itched, which meant that it was healing nicely, despite the really smelly and rather disgusting salve that Saori had made for him out of the little ears she'd found.  Or maybe because of it . . . Though he didn't want to admit any such thing to her, he had to admit that he was healing even faster than he usually did.  He hadn't actually seen the herb to know for sure what it was, and if she hadn't been standing right there, staring at him in a somewhat anxious kind of way, he might have just pretended to use the nasty stuff.  Too bad she'd stood there, watching him until he did use it, and then he was pretty grossed out.  Not only did it sting, but the smell had actually gotten worse—she said that it meant it was leaching out infection.  She'd made him leave it on for half an hour before she allowed him to take a shower to wash it away . . .

By the time he'd finished cleaning up, he'd been more than ready to hightail it into his office . . .

Of course, now that he was finished for the day, however, and since the trace irritation that had accompanied the smelly salve had worn off, he thought maybe he'd seek her out, see if she would be interested in walking the lands with him.  Given the hour, he could even pack up a late lunch for her, as well . . .

All in all, he had to admit that he was in a much better mood than he ought to be.  The last time he'd had to defeat a challenger, he'd spent days, brooding over it, and, while it still weighed heavily on his mind, it wasn't enough to send him into introspective silence for days, either.

Which bothered him on some level.  It was a grave thing, to have to take a life, even if he really didn't have a choice in it.  The last thing he wanted to do was to become desensitized to it—for it to become commonplace, to the point that it didn't get to him.

' _You know, maybe you're looking at it wrong . . . It's not that you don't comprehend or give proper respect to your opponents.  It's just that she helped you, didn't she?  Maybe she didn't even realize that's what she was doing, but she understood, and that's enough . . ._ '

The sudden memory of her face, while she sat there, telling him that overblown and fanciful story of what she envisioned his challenge to be, flickered to life in his head, and he frowned.  She had known, hadn't she?  She'd understood on a level that she shouldn't have, and that was why she'd come up with that ridiculous tale: because she wanted to distract him, and she had . . . ' _But . . . how would she know?  Youkai don't go around, challenging each other nowadays.  It's just not allowed anymore, outside of official sanctions . . . So . . .?_ '

' _We could ask her, you know.  I get the feeling that there's more to the girl than we've given her credit for, don't you think?_ '

Fai wasn't entirely sure, just what to believe.  She'd been pretty open with him thus far—at least, he thought she was . . . If he asked her more about her family, what would she tell him?

' _It's not like she's trying to hide things from you.  At least, that's what I sense from her._ '

' _I didn't think that she was.  She's been pretty forthcoming all along, hasn't she?  Well, other than knocking me out and tossing me into her van . . ._ '

' _That's kind of funnier than anything else.  Okay, so you got behind on a little work, but it wasn't too bad, and really, I think that brief sojourn did us good._ '

Fai wasn't entirely sure he was ready to say it quite like that, but he could see the logic in his youkai's words.  Still . . .

Turning around, he stepped back over to his desk once more, dropping into the heavy old chair with a deep exhalation.  Before he left the office for the day, he really needed to write down his report about the challenge.  It wasn't that it was required, but he'd gotten into the habit of doing so, just for his own recollection later, especially after the second challenge.

About a week after that brief and almost anticlimactic fight that had only lasted about five minutes, all totaled, the man's son showed up—a young man, maybe a couple years younger than Fai at the time—and he had wanted to know the sordid details.  What had struck Fai about the whole thing wasn't that the man's son had showed up, but the quiet sense of resignation in his every movement, the haunted darkness that veiled his eyes . . .

" _I . . . I wondered if I could just . . . just ask you . . .?  My father . . . I mean, you met him, and you won . . . But he . . ." He trailed off, wincing as he stared at his thin hands, clasped in his lap as he frowned in concentration, as he sought to find the words that he wanted to say.  Thin of build like most blackbuck-youkai, he seemed almost nervous, bouncing one leg in rapid vibration_.

" _He's dead," Fai replied frankly, not unkindly, despite the abrupt words_.

 _The young man—Anatoli—grimaced.  "I know," he replied quietly, shaking his head, and for a brief moment, Fai had to wonder if he wasn't about to break down in tears.  He didn't, but he did clear his throat a few times.  "We—Mother and I . . . We begged him not to do it: not to challenge you.  He . . . He was strong, but_ . . ."

 _Settling back in his chair as he regarded the blackbuck-youkai for a long moment, Fai nodded.  "He fought well," he said, hating the lie, even as it tumbled out of him, and he brushed aside the memory of the man, of his shocked expression when he'd dashed forward in such a haphazard kind of way that he'd all but impaled himself upon Fai's blade . . . "He . . . He died valiantly_ . . ."

 _Anatoli's head snapped up, his eyes flaring wide, his expression a strange mix of pride and sadness—one that Fai would never forget.  He stood abruptly, clutching his jacket in his hands as he twisted it unmercifully, over and over again.  "Thank you, Your Grace," he said, offering Fai a hasty bow.  "That's . . . That's all I wanted to know_ . . ."

 _Fai stood, watching in silence as Anatoli had left his office_.

He'd promised himself when he'd taken over as tai-youkai that he would never, ever lie.  He hadn't understood at that time, though, had he?  He hadn't anticipated an encounter quite like that one.

He'd come to understand in the years that followed that a lie like that one was all right.  What good would it have done him to say that his father was sorely lacking?  At the very least, Anatoli was still able to hold his head high, not bearing the shame of some perceived fool's errand, and that was enough for Fai, too.

The truth of those encounters, however, he wrote down—all of it, from start to finish—just so that the reality existed somewhere.  He wrote the accounts down, filed them in the Demyanov vault, and no one would ever see them.  He supposed that it was his way of committing it all to memory, and maybe in doing so, he'd found that it made it easier for him to let go of it, to finally step away from it, so that he didn't have to carry the guilt around with him every day, all the time.

The scratch of his pen against the paper was the only sound, other than the ticking of the antique clock on the mantel.  He didn't know how long he sat there, writing down his account of the altercation.  Though he tried to retain a level of cold factuality, he knew somewhere deep down that his side of things was inherently biased.  Even so, it was the best he could do.

Minutes stretched into minutes, and those flowed on in a gush of silent words.  When he finally dropped the pen with a heavy sigh, his relatively good mood was all but entirely shattered.  Scooping up the papers—ten of them, front and back—he tapped the bottoms against the desk a few times before slipping them into the bottom drawer of the desk and securing the lock.  The vault was in the basement, and he didn't care to make the trek to go down there at the moment.  He'd put the account away the next time he had reason to do so.  Then he stood up, let his head fall back, rolling slowly from side to side, eyes drifting closed as he sought to gather his thoughts, to clear his mind once more . . .

He gasped, jumped, eyes flashing open as he turned his head, shielded his face with his raised forearms against the flash of brilliant yellow, like lightning—like an explosion—as the castle shook, as the thick and old double oak doors literally shattered, splinters showering the entire office as a loud bellow echoed in the air.

" _Kaze no kizu!_ "

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Kaze no Kizu_** _: Wind Scar_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** — — —
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— WhisperingWolf ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— Monsterkittie
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lianned88
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_InuYasha_** :  
>  _Where the fuck is she_ …?!


	21. 020: Reunion

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_20_** ~~  
~ ** _Reunion_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

"Baka!  Put that away before you hurt yourself, you ass."

"Keh!  You're such a bastard!  That old fucker wasn't about to let us in, and you, arguing with him, wasn't really doing a damn thing to help!"

"It's called diplomacy, worthless half-breed—something you, quite obviously, know nothing at all about.  What if you'd endangered her more than she already is with your refusal to use the brain you have?"

"Oh, for kami's sake, both of you!  _Move!_ "  Deliberately shoving the two silver haired beings apart, a beautiful, raven-haired youkai woman—a wind-youkai?—strode past them and leveled a closed fan at Fai's chest.  "You.  You're Fai-sama?" she demanded.  The last part of it was spoken in English, and Fai had to wonder if he looked as confused as he felt, given that he hadn’t understood a word that was spoken before she’d addressed him.

He nodded once very slowly, ignoring, for the moment, the absolute wreckage that used to be his office.  "And you are?"

The woman's magenta eyes narrowed slightly.  "Where is Saori?"

"Saori?" Fai echoed, shaking his head.  Something about these people struck him as different, but he didn't really have time to process it, either, given that the woman had yet to lower the fans that he had a feeling weren't merely for show.  "She's in my custody for kidnapping me.  She's not going anywhere."

The racket of two swords—one being drawn and leveled at him while the other just shifted trajectory—made his frown deepen, mostly because he was at a very real disadvantage, given that he was unarmed.  The shorter man's sword was _huge_ —ridiculously so—but it was the menace in the taller being's eyes—the rest of his expression was completely blanked—that set off warning bells somewhere in Fai's mind.

"Hand her over, bastard, or you die," the shorter one snarled in English, having obviously realized that Fai didn’t understand whatever language they were barking in, to start with.

"Is that a challenge?" Fai shot back mildly.

"It's a fucking promise!"

"I'd like to see you try, hanyou."

The other man rolled his eyes as the hanyou erupted in a menacing growl.  "Perish the thought of you becoming the next Asian tai-youkai, baka," he said before narrowing his gaze slightly on Fai.  "Perhaps I ought to introduce myself since I only met your father before you.  I am Sesshoumaru, and you will return Saori.  Now."

‘ _Wait . . . Did he just say . . .?_ ’

‘ _Sesshoumaru . . . Inutaisho . . . The Inu no Taisho . . .?_ ’

‘ _Yeah, but why is he here . . .?_ ’

Covering his surprise quickly enough, Fai didn't back down.  "And just why would I do that?  You understand the laws, Sesshoumaru.  You're Inu no Taisho.  You made most of them.  Since when does the Inu no Taisho trouble himself about incidents that should be left to the discretion of the tai-youkai?"

A very cold, very calculated smile that was entirely frightening, surfaced on the Inu no Taisho's lips as those golden eyes narrowed, as he neatly stepped around the woman.  "That is true, Faine.  Ordinarily, I would not interfere.  However, I'm not here as the Inu no Taisho.  I'm here as Saori's grandfather—and you _will_ return her to me.  Now."

" _Grandfather?_ " Fai choked out, positive that he had to have heard the man wrong.  Her grandfather was the Inu no Taisho?  How was that even possible?  But . . . "You're her—?"

"Ojii-sama!  Obaa-sama!  Ji-chan . . . Did you do this?"

All heads except for Sesshoumaru's swung to stare at the missing girl—Saori, who skidded to a halt just inside the office, eyes wide as she took in the sight of her relatives—and the desecration that the hanyou had initiated.  Then she squeaked out a little sound as the hotheaded ji-chan grabbed her into a tight, one-armed hug.  He snapped something in what must have been Japanese at Saori, who sighed and slowly shook her head.  When she tried to step away from him, however, her uncle held onto her, stubbornly refusing to let her anywhere near Fai, which only served to irritate Fai even more, and he stepped toward her.  “What do you think you’re doing?  Stop manhandling her, and let her go!” he growled.

“I’m all right,” she called, yanking against her uncle’s hold, to no avail, and he instantly felt a slight quelling of her emotions.  She must have realized on some level that he was reacting to her, but he didn’t stop to think that over too long, given the situation.  “Fai-sama—"

Reacting to the panic in her youki that she wasn’t able to mask from him, Fai started toward her again, only to stop abruptly when both swords started to rise once more.  Then the woman snapped her wrist, a ridiculously fast whiz of an air blade, unleashed from one of the fans in her hand that zipped past him with a whistle of motion, passing dangerously close to his face, and, had he not stopped, he was positive that she would have sliced him deep.  The wind blade hit the wall between the windows, causing the entire structure to groan as a rabble of stone broke free, clattering to the floor, leaving behind a healthy indent in the once-pristine edifice.

“Don’t move,” she warned, narrowing her gaze on Fai.  "Saori!" she then gasped, carting around on her heel to throw her arms around Saori instead.  They, too, had a rapid-fire discussion in Japanese before the woman planted herself stubbornly directly in front of Saori.

"They'll pay for the door," Saori called, trying in vain to lean around the woman—apparently her grandmother.  "Ji-chan!  Let go!"

"Not on your life, little girl," InuYasha growled.  "Sesshoumaru, get her out of here.  I'll deal with this . . ."

"The hell you will, baka," Sesshoumaru retorted mildly before shifting his gaze only to meet Fai’s glower.  "I already told you, you’d make a terrible tai-youkai.”  Then he turned to face Fai once more.  “She'll be returning to Japan with her grandmother and me—and her idiot uncle."

"InuYasha, take her out to the car, please," the woman commanded.

‘ _InuYasha?  As in . . . As in, the hanyou of legend . . .?_ ’

‘ _Oh, for fuck’s sake!  Is there anyone who she isn’t related to?_ ’

‘ _You know that they call him the Angry Hanyou, right?  Apparently, it’s for good reason . . ._ ’

‘ _. . . Shut up._ ’

"Keh!" the hanyou growled, but he did escort a struggling Saori out of the room.

"Fai!  I'm . . . I'm sorry!" Saori called back, her voice growing quieter as she was moved away.

Fai started around the desk, only to be brought up short when Sesshoumaru flicked the tip of his sword under Fai's chin.  "If you value your life, you'll stay where you are," he warned.  Then he dug into his pocket and tossed a wad of bills onto the floor.  "That should be more than enough to cover my half-brother's damages."

"Wait!" Fai growled, starting after them as Sesshoumaru turned to leave.  "At least let me say goodbye to her!"

"I think that the two of you have said more than enough to one another," Sesshoumaru replied.  "Be glad that I am allowing you to live."  He started away again, but stopped in the still-crumbling doorway, turning his head just far enough to pin Fai with a blank stare.  “That child . . . She is our sun and our moon, you understand.”

“Sesshoumaru—”

“If that is not enough compensation for the damages, do contact me through the usual channels.”

Gritting his teeth as he stood by and watched their departure, he didn't realize he was growling until he heard the front door slam a minute later.

 

* * *

 

 

Settling back in the seat in the center of the office, Saori tried not to fidget as her father slumped back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, looking far more serious than he normally did outside of the boardroom.  Rinji leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window behind the desk, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his impossibly expensive, tailored dress pants, while Aiko stood behind her mate.  She wasn't smiling, but she didn't look nearly as irritated as the men in the quiet room, and that, at least, offered Saori some measure of comfort.

It was late.  They'd just gotten in from the airport, and for the entirety of that flight, Saori had to endure being lectured and yelled at, by turns: lecturing from her sweet and darling grandmother, and the yelling, courtesy of her uncle.  Sesshoumaru, for the most part, hadn't said a whole lot, and that, in and of itself worried Saori a little more, given that the quieter he was, the more irritated he was likely to be . . .

But he still hadn't said much, even when they'd arrived at her parents' home.  They'd all disappeared into the study while she had gone to her room to wait while they had their discussions about her but not including her.  Then they’d sent Rinji up to fetch her, and now . . .  Well, now, they were all sitting on the other side of the room and hadn't breathed a word since they'd called her into the office for the formal condemnation of her actions . . .

"Saori, can you explain to us, just why you thought it would be a good idea to kidnap the Asian tai-youkai?" her father asked, his tone, a measured calm that belied the irritation she could feel, radiating off of him.

"It wasn't exactly kidnapping," she muttered.  "More like, I appropriated him—"

"Saori . . ."

She winced at the don't-goof-around tone in her father's voice.  "Sorry, tou-san."

He raised two fingers to dismiss her apology.  "Go on."

"Well, I mean, I didn't _plan_ it . . . It's just that the van I had to drive was pretty old, and the hatch door wouldn't stay open without holding it, and I forgot for a moment and let go, so it . . . it hit him in the head and knocked him out."

Senkuro Seiji let out a deep breath, slowly shaking his head as he pondered her words.  "Okay, I'll buy that," he said.  "What I don't understand is how you made the leap from accidentally knocking him out to _kidnapping_ him."

She grimaced.  It sounded so much worse, the way he'd put it, didn't it?  "I . . . I just thought that if he could . . . could see the orphanage—if he could meet the children, maybe spend some time with them—that he might change his mind about taking away the funding for it.  That's all . . ."

Seiji let out a deep breath, and his expression softened just a little, even though he continued to look concerned.  Then he shook his head.  "You've got to start thinking things through, Saori," he told her, but not unkindly.  "No matter what your intentions were, kidnapping, let alone, the Asian tai-youkai?"  Gaze shifting away from her—past her—his brows drew together in a wizened scowl.  "The international ramifications of this could potentially be catastrophic . . . Maybe she should have stayed there."

"And just what the hell does that mean?" InuYasha growled without preamble.

Seiji rubbed his forehead.  "I mean, he had a right to order her confined, and, from what you all said, she wasn't being mistreated.  She kidnapped him, and even though I don't want her to be locked up, you cannot say that he didn't have a legitimate complaint against her."

InuYasha snorted loudly.  "You want we should take her back?" he snarled.

"No," Seiji said with a sigh, just before shifting his formidable scowl back to her once more.  "I trust you've learned your lesson?" he went on, rather dubiously.

"Yes," she said, scuffing her toes against the rug-covered floor.  "You're right.  It was pretty . . . pretty dumb . . ."

"Come on," Aiko remarked, giving her husband a loving squeeze on the shoulder before stepping around the desk and waiting for Saori to follow.

She followed her mother out of her father's office in silence, eyes downcast as the stupidity of the whole situation hit her, hard.  Why wasn't it that she couldn't seem to grasp these kinds of things until well after the fact?  Time after time, she'd done ridiculous things—maybe not of this magnitude, but still—and she never, ever seemed to realize just how badly it could have turned out until afterward?

Aiko didn't say anything until she closed the door behind them, and then she hurried over, digging out a pair of pajamas from a zippered plastic bag tucked neatly in the dresser before pulling clean bedding from a plastic bag in the closet.  "Tell me about the children," she prompted.

Saori pulled off the travel-rumpled clothes and reached for the bedclothes.  "The children?”

“Yes, the children you were trying to protect,” she clarified.  “That’s ultimately what you were trying to do, wasn’t it?  Protect them?”

Even that didn’t make her feel any better, but Saori forced a wan smile, solely for her mother’s benefit.  “I guess so . . . I mean, the children . . . They're all so sweet . . . I wish they had families of their own, but finding placements for them is so difficult there.  It’s such a poor region, you know?  Most families barely have the money for their own children, let alone asking them to take in someone else’s, and the ones who could afford it just aren’t interested.  These kids fall through the cracks, and it isn’t fair . . . I had one little girl—Galinia—who was so precious . . . But Fai-sama promised to keep funding the orphanage, as long as they were able to cut some expenses, and he's a good man.  He'll keep his word."

Aiko nodded slowly, her gentle smile quirking her lips as she carefully made up the bed.  "He sounds very kind and from what they said, he seems to be more fair than he ought to be, maybe," she surmised, her golden gaze dropping to the bedding once more.  "But he had you arrested, didn't he?"

"Well, kind of . . . I mean, it was my own fault, but even then, I was staying in one of his guest rooms, and he did take me on a tour of his vodka distillery . . . It wasn't really like I was being punished, actually . . ." she admitted.

Settling on the bed, she waited while Aiko stepped over to retrieve her hair brush off the dresser.  It was something she always did, for as long as Saori could remember: every night, they'd talk, discuss everything that had happened that day—or since the last time they'd been together—and, all the while, her mother would slowly brush her hair . . .

"You spent a good amount of time with him, then," Aiko concluded, settling behind Saori as she started to gently pull the brush through her hair.

"It's just him and his brother," Saori continued, wrapping her arms around her bent knees and resting her cheek on them.  "He's kind of quiet, like ojii-sama, but he is kind—just a little too pragmatic."

"I'd suppose that he needs to be pragmatic," Aiko allowed.  "He's fairly young, isn't he?"

For some reason, her mother's question made her frown.  Anywhere else in the world, in any kind of profession, being in his thirties would be old enough to be considered competent, and yet, in the position of tai-youkai . . . "He . . . He gets challenged a lot," she admitted quietly, unsure why, exactly, saying it out loud made it sound much more terrifying.  "He was challenged while I was there—just got back from seeing it through the day before ojii-sama came."

Aiko was quiet for a long moment, and Saori had to blink and sit up a little straighter to keep herself from drifting off to sleep.  "The idea of Fai-sama being challenged bothers you, it seems," Aiko finally remarked.

Biting her lip, Saori tried to shrug it off.  Too bad that her mother was far more perceptive than just about any other being alive, with the only exception being her great-aunt, Kagome . . . "It's disturbing," she said, trying to measure her words carefully.  "It's not fair . . . Being challenged, simply because he's young?  Because they think he doesn't deserve to be handed the title of tai-youkai?  But it's not his fault.  I'm sure that, if he had his preference, his parents would still be alive, and he wouldn't have to be tai-youkai yet . . ."

Aiko chuckled, giving Saori's shoulders a quick squeeze before she resumed her task of brushing her daughter's hair again.  "Seems like he made quite an impression on you."

Heaving a sigh, Saori let her chin drop on her knees.  "I'm sure he's already forgotten me," she admitted, glad that her mother couldn't actually see the color, rising in her cheeks as unbidden memories of that one kiss shot to the fore in her mind.  "He ought to, shouldn't he?  I mean, I did . . . _appropriate_ him . . ."

Aiko laughed, the sound of it, soothing and pleasant.  "If that's the case, then I daresay he probably hasn't forgotten you, Saori.  I don't think I'd ever forget someone who did that to me.  Even so, he must not have been too upset by it, given that he didn't really throw you in jail, don't you think?"

"He did order me arrested," she grumbled, rubbing her face on her knees until her forehead rested where her chin had been.  "I mean, if he didn't like it when I kissed him, he could have just told me so, but then, he ordered Yerik to arrest me instead, and—"

Aiko choked.  "You . . . _kissed_ . . . Fai-sama?"

Saori could have kicked herself for mentioning that.  She hadn't meant to, and yet, there it was.  She winced.  "It wasn't . . . I mean, I didn't . . . I thought he was leaving—I thought I'd never see him again, and . . ." The wince shifted into an all-out grimace.  "I . . . I shouldn't have done that, either . . ." she admitted in a near-whisper.

"So?" Aiko asked rather casually at length.

"So?" she echoed, her voice muffled by her legs.

Aiko giggled.  "So, is Fai-sama a good kisser?"

Saori gasped, and the blood that had just disbursed from her cheeks shot right back to the fore again.  "Kaa-chan!" she choked out.

Aiko's giggle escalated.  "I take that to be a, 'yes', then," she concluded.  "Well, if that's the case, daughter-of-mine, then I'm sure Fai-sama hasn't forgotten about you, at all."  She scooted off the bed and set the brush back on the dresser once more.  "Don't worry, Saori.  Things have a way of working themselves out—things that are meant to be, that is."

Gnawing on her lip, Saori finally lifted her chin when her mother kissed her head.  Watching for a moment as Aiko headed for the door, Saori cleared her throat.  "Kaa-chan?"

She paused with her hand on the door handle.  "Hmm?"

"Please don't tell tou-chan and nii-chan . . . It's . . . It's embarrassing."

“You know that I would never divulge a woman’s secrets, Saori,” she chided gently.

Saori sighed.  “I . . . I know . . .”

Aiko smiled at her.  "Anyway, I won't tell them a thing about it," she promised.  "That's your business, Saori.  However, if and when you see Fai-sama again, I have a bit of advice for you."

"Okay."

Her smile widened.  "Make him work for you.  After all, _my_ daughter is most certainly worth the effort."

A curt knock on the door interrupted the moment, and Aiko paused long enough to give Saori’s shoulder’s a little squeeze before scooting off the bed.

Saori grimaced inwardly when her uncle stepped into the room, his expression unreadable, but he nodded at her.  “Let me talk to the pup.”

Aiko smiled and kissed her uncle’s cheek before wiggling her fingers in farewell as she slipped out of the room.

“Where’s everyone else?” Saori final asked, watching without lifting her chin as InuYasha prowled around the room.

InuYasha grunted.  “Keh!  Where do you think?  Down there, listening to that old windbag of a grandfather of yours.”  Striding over to a shelf where Saori kept her childhood keepsakes, he kept moving.  It was how he had always been.  Even if he stood, stock-still, there was always a part of him that would move.  Many times, it was his dog-ears.  Those adorable little, furry triangles were constantly twitching, constantly monitoring the area.  She’d always been enchanted by them, even if it was rare that he allowed anyone to touch them.  Turned as he was, she couldn’t see his face, but those ears of his kept turning, twisting—listening.  “So, uh . . .”

“Hmm?”

InuYasha pivoted on his heel, planting his hands on his hips, his jeans faded and rumpled, his crimson tee-shirt looking a little worse for wear since he hadn’t bothered to bring extra clothing with him on the impromptu rescue mission.  He hadn’t gone home yet, either, but Saori figured that he was probably on his way out after he talked to her.  Whatever it was that he wanted to say, she wasn’t sure.

“Is he tough?”

Blinking at the unexpected question, Saori slowly shook her head.  “Tough?” she echoed.  “He’s tai-youkai, and he’s been challenged quite a bit.”

InuYasha nodded.  “Keh!  Looked like some kind of citified pretty-boy,” he grumbled.

She shrugged.  “Well, I did have to teach him how to fish,” she admitted.  “I mean, he said he could fish with a rod and line, but we didn’t have those.  The van broke down, so we ended up, having to travel the rest of the way on foot, and carrying around a pole just wasn’t really convenient . . .”

“That right?  Can’t handle real fishing?  What good is he?”

For the first time since she’d been rescued, Saori giggled just a little.  “It’s not his fault . . . He was busy learning other things.  Anyway, he got pretty good at fishing, and he’s a very good cook.”

InuYasha didn’t look impressed by her claim, but he nodded once.  “He didn’t have time to learn how to fish by hand, but he took the time to learn how to stake a few fish and roast ‘em over a fire?  Seems kind of backward, if you ask me.”

Rolling her eyes despite the smile on her face, she wrinkled her nose.  “I assure you, he’s a very talented person, ji-chan.”

He grunted.  “I’ll take your word for it,” he said.  “Anyway, oba-chan is hollering that she missed me or some such.  I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

She hugged him back when he strode over to give her a quick squeeze.  “Give her my love.”

“Do that yourself,” he told her.  “You got time, don’t you?  Come by and see her.”

“All right,” she agreed as he strode over to the door.  “Ji-chan?”

He stopped in the doorway.

She sighed.  “Next time you rescue someone, maybe you should try not to tear down their home in the process.”

He narrowed his golden eyes at her and snorted indelicately.  “Keh!  Next time you kidnap some stupid baka, don’t get caught!” he shot back as he stomped out of her room and slammed the door behind himself, leaving a giggling Saori in his wake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** M ——— Silent Reader ——— Goldeninugoddess ——— xSerenityx020 ——— sutlesarcasm
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— WhisperingWolf ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— NyteAngel ——— Monsterkittie
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lianned88 ——— cutechick18 ——— goldeninugoddess
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from Aiko**_ :  
> … _Interesting_ …


	22. 021: Upside Down

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_21_** ~~  
~ ** _Upside Down_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

"Fai?"

Staring out the window at the beautiful sunshine that felt completely at odds with the irritation very evident in Fai's expression, he stood abruptly, sending the chair clattering loudly as it scooted back a few feet across the slightly uneven flagstone veranda.  It careened, it tilted, but it didn’t fall over—quite a feat, really . . . Striding over to the low wall that surrounded the area, Fai's scowl darkened even more, his eyes darting quickly over the peaceful landscape: the garden behind the vast Demyanov castle.

"Fai?"

"I heard you the first time, Yerik," Fai growled.

He heard his brother's sigh.  "It's been almost a week," Yerik said, opting to ignore Fai's uncharacteristic gruffness.

"I realize that," he ground out.  "They promised they'd be finished today."

"They?" he echoed quizzically.

"The contractor," Fai clarified in a tone that indicated that Yerik ought to have realized that on his own.

"Yes, well, that, too, I suppose," Yerik replied.  "I wasn't talking about the damages, though—the Hanyou of Legend actually blasted the doors with Tetsusaiga?"

"I fail to see the humor of it," Fai snarled.

Yerik chuckled, letting Fai's irritation roll right off his back.  "Is it as impressive as they say?"

Fai snorted indelicately.  "What are you talking about?"

Yerik shrugged when Fai peered over his shoulder to level a scowl at him.  "Tetsusaiga, Fai.  They say it's massive."

Fai only grunted in answer as he turned away once more.

"I'm sorry I missed that," Yerik admitted.  "Who would have thought that little Saori would have relatives like that?  Talk about intimidating, and it probably didn't sit well with them that you'd arrested . . . Sesshoumaru's granddaughter?"

"You're five minutes from being told to fetch your sword, Yerik," Fai warned dryly.

"So, if you had gotten killed on accident, did Sesshoumaru bring Tenseiga to revive you?"

Fai's jaw ticked as he ground his teeth together.  "I think I saw it in the hall," he growled.

"Saw what in the hall?  Tenseiga?"

"Your sword, Yerik.  Go get it."

The younger Demyanov had the audacity to laugh outright at that.  His amusement wound down slowly, though, and he finally sighed instead.  "You know, Fai, if you miss her that much, you could go get her," he suggested.

Fai didn't bother to respond to that.  Turning on his heel, he stalked away, down the steps that led to the garden, striding along the cobblestone paths that meandered through the many flowerbeds.  He was dangerously close to losing what was left of his temper, and if he didn't get a handle on it, he'd be sorry for it later.

Go get her?

He snorted and quickened his pace.  ' _I don't . . . I don't_ need _her!  She kidnapped me, for God's sake!  The last thing—the very last thing—I need is to bring her back!  She has serious impulse control problems—kidnapping me, the Asian tai-youkai . . . cuddling with men she barely knows . . . kissing random strangers . . ._ '

' _You're not a random stranger, Fai—and you liked it, that kiss—and the cuddling, for that matter.  You're just coming up with excuses._ '

' _I'm not,_ ' he argued.  ' _Why on earth would I want to bring her back?  She has a horrible lack of decorum, doesn't really think about the things she does until after she's done them, runs off with strange men she doesn't know . . . I could go on._ '

' _Her heart's in the right place, Fai, and that has to account for something.  Maybe if we called . . ._ '

Fai snorted.  ' _Sesshoumaru was very clear when he said to stay away from her._ '

' _And you're afraid of him?_ '

' _There is a huge difference between being afraid—and I'm not—and possessing a healthy respect for someone's abilities—which I do.  That aside, they say things work out the way they're meant to, right?  So, if that's the case, she was meant to go home—to go back where she belongs._ '

' _Do you really believe that?_ '

' _I have to.  It's done._ '

Besides, he figured, he had bigger things to worry about.  After all, he was still dealing with budget restraints—he really wasn't sure just where his father came up with the money to fund all the ongoing services that were slowly chipping away at the bottom line—not to mention that he had yet to come up with a workable plan to keep the orphanage going, long-term.  The reality of it was that he really needed to find someone that he could trust, someone who could help him figure out a way to not only find placements for the children already in the home but to keep it above water, too . . .

His first thought was to talk to Evgeni, maybe ask him if he had any suggestions regarding the home.

' _Except the last time you mentioned it to him, he laughed and told you to shut it down—and that's what you were going to do, wasn't it?  Do you think he'll say anything different this time?_ '

Fai rolled up his sleeves a few times as he kept walking, thinking over his youkai-voice's assertions.  It was true enough.  Evgeni had maintained that the children in that home wouldn't amount to much in the long run, too, and had suggested, albeit in a very droll sort of way, that maybe the children ought to be killed off, too—that it might well be somehow kinder than living the life of beggars in an orphanage that was too poor to adequately care for them . . .

' _That was just a joke—a really horrible joke, but a joke . . ._ '

' _Was it, Faine?  Was it, really?  You know, sure, he came to discuss things with your father often enough, but you know as well as I do that the only person your father ever really trusted was your mother.  Maybe they were friends, but how often did your father warn you not to trust anyone more than you trust yourself?  He had to have said that for a reason, don't you think?  So, is it okay to tell Evgeni as much as you have?_ '

' _Point taken, but that doesn't help the situation at hand.  I've thought it over and over again, and I've tried to come up with way too many workarounds, but you know that all I'm really doing is biding time, and if I cannot rely on Evgeni, then who do you suggest?_ '

His youkai voice snorted indelicately.  ' _You already know the answer to that.  You're just too stubborn to get out your phone and to make that call . . . For the record, I don't think she'd decline your request if you asked her to help you, and you know her well enough to know that she doesn't have ulterior motives, either.  Besides, she wants to see that home stay open as much as you do.  Do you think she'd really turn you down?_ '

Digging his phone out of his pocket, Fai scowled at the numbers he kept programmed in it.  The only number he had was the Japanese tai-youkai's office—Toga—Saori's uncle . . .?  He wasn't entirely sure, but he did know that they had to be related.  He seemed to recall at one point, someone mentioning Toga's younger sister, which would explain why Saori's last name wasn't Inutaisho.  Now, if luck was on his side, he'd at least get a phone number where he could reach Saori . . .

"Inutaisho."

"Toga?  Hello, this is Fai Demyanov—"

"Demyanov-dono?  Well, this is a surprise," the tai-youkai said.  He didn't sound unkind, but he didn't sound friendly, exactly, either . . .

Fai licked his lips.  "Yes, I suppose it is," he allowed.  "I know you're busy, so I won't take up your time.  I need to reach Saori Senkuro and wondered if you had her phone number?"

"Yes, I do," Toga remarked slowly, almost thoughtfully.  "I assure you that we're very sorry for what she did, and we're taking care of the situation.  You really needn't worry yourself over anything.  We're so incredibly sorry about what happened.  Please be assured that she has been duly reprimanded.  She . . . She's a bit impetuous at times, not that it excuses her behavior because kidnapping anyone, let alone the Asian tai-youkai, is very, very serious."

"Ah, no, I—"

"Under the circumstances, I think it's best if you were to let us deal with her.  If you require monetary compensation for the inconvenience, I'll be happy to authorize whatever you demand, and I promise you, she won't ever be returning to your jurisdiction, so there won't be any more trouble."

"No, you don't understand.  I—"

"Let me know if there's anything we can do to for you, Demyanov-dono.  Thank you for calling."

Grimacing when the line went dead, Fai let out a deep, frustrated breath and slowly shook his head.  Not even letting him speak?  Didn't that just figure, and why was he being treated like he'd done something wrong when _she_ was the one who had felt the need to . . . to appropriate _him_ , in the first place . . .?

' _The whole damn family is insane,_ ' he thought sourly, resuming his stomp through the gardens that should have brought him a level of calm, but was absolutely not working at all.  Just how on earth was he supposed to talk to her, to ask her to help him, if her family was so dead-set against the idea of her even speaking to him?  He wanted to offer her a job, needed her help with the children—something that he knew damn well that she'd want.  After all, it was her concern for the children that had led to the rest of the whole debacle, to start with.  Sure, he could understand the reluctance to allow him to speak to her when he'd had her arrested for it, but he hadn't even gotten a chance to defend his reason for calling, in the first place.

The unsettling and unwelcome sense of melancholy that slowly closed in around him slowed his pace, a terrible feeling of desolation that he didn't fully understand . . .

None of it made sense, did it?  After everything that had happened since the moment he'd met her, and now . . .? He'd tried, and he'd failed, and somehow, Saori had slipped a little farther away from him . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Saori tapped on the door then pushed it open, only to blink and raise her eyebrows at the vision that greeted her.

"Saori-chan!" Izayoi Bellaniece greeted brightly from where she sat, directly in Inutaisho Toga's lap.  Across from him, her aunt—Toga's wife—was very comfortably nestled in Bellaniece's husband's lap.  "Come in; come in!"

"Oba-chan . . ." Saori greeted.  In truth, Bellaniece wasn't actually her aunt—was, in fact, more like a second-cousin—but she'd always called both her as well as Nezumi and Gin, 'oba-chan', anyway . . . "Am I interrupting?" she asked, smiling as she noticed the tell-tale blush on her uncle's face.

Toga cleared his throat, peering around Bellaniece and slowly shaking his head despite the good-natured smile on his face.  "Oh, uh, Saori . . ."

Saori checked the urge to giggle and cleared her throat instead.  "I dropped off the file like you asked, and then, I picked up these," she said, stepping over to hand a binder over to Sierra.  "The florist said to let her know what all you want for the Inutaisho gala, but if you want any of the specialty flowers, let them know soon since they'll have to be imported."

"Tou-san say anything about the file?" Toga asked.

Saori shrugged.  "He said he'd call you later, after he's had a chance to look the file over."

Toga nodded.  "Thank you," he replied.

"Anything else you need me to do?"

Toga chuckled.  "You could sidetrack Belle, here, if you wanted."

"But, Toga-chan!  I thought you liked me!" Bellaniece protested, twisting around to peer over her shoulder at him.

"I like you well enough," he agreed.  "Kich . . .?"

Kichiro chuckled, making a show of tightening his hold around Sierra's waist.  "I'm okay with this," he teased.  Sierra giggled while Bellaniece winked at her mate.

"I'm good with it, too," Sierra piped up.

Toga heaved a sigh.  "Figures . . . Thank you, Saori.  I'll call if I need anything else," he told her.

She nodded and let herself out of the office.  Only after the door closed behind her, did she let out a deep breath of her own.

In the week since she'd been so unceremoniously brought home, she'd done very little.  Sure, she'd submitted her résumé to a few agencies and a couple schools, but she hadn't heard anything yet, and all she'd been doing otherwise was sitting at home, fielding lectures from various family members about how reckless her actions were.  Then Toga had called and offered her a part time position as an aide of sorts—at least, until she was able to find a job in her chosen field.  At least it gave her something to do, and Toga, unlike most everyone else, hadn't said a thing at all to her about the kidnapping of the Asian tai-youkai.

Shaking her head as she headed toward the elevator, Saori bit her lip.  She was just reaching out to hit the call button when the soft chime sounded and the doors slid open.  Blinking as she took a step back, she broke into a small smile as her cousin stepped off the elevator, straightening the sleeves of his blazer as he quirked his black eyebrows and leveled an otherwise bland expression at her.  "Well, if it isn't my cousin, the felon," Inutaisho Mamoruzen—better known as 'Gunnar'—remarked.  "If you're here to kidnap tou-san, I'll have you thrown in a real jail," he warned.

She wrinkled her nose.  "I'm working for him," she corrected.  "It's bad form to kidnap one's boss, isn't it?  Anyway, I've gotten enough lectures already, thank you."

He snorted, which meant that he really didn't care, one way or the other.  "What were you thinking?"

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.  "If you're going to have your go at me, the least you could do is buy me a cup of tea," she informed him, brushing past him and into the elevator.

He checked his watch, then opted to follow her.  "I have a few minutes," he allowed, pressing the button for the first floor of the impressive Inutaisho Communications building.  "What the hell _were_ you thinking?"

That he'd asked that question in a very mild tone wasn't surprising—neither was the very real censure in his expression.  Golden eyes, unnecessarily bright as he stared down at her, he seemed to be daring her to try to lie to him, and she sighed.  "It wasn't . . . I wasn't trying to _kidnap_ him," she heard herself explain for what had to be the hundredth time since she'd arrived back in Tokyo.  "I just wanted him to meet the orphans before he cut off funding for the home, is all."

Gunnar snorted and held his hand over the sensor when the doors slid open to allow her to exit the box first.  "So, you kidnap Fai Demyanov, and —"

"I prefer 'appropriated'," she muttered.

"Appropriated?"

She wrinkled her nose and shrugged.  "'Kidnap' sounds so violent.  Appropriated is much more diplomatic."

He grunted.  "Only you, Saori-chan, could possibly try to make the whole thing sound like the weird and twisted plot to a misbegotten rom-com."

She stopped short, blinking as his choice of words sank in.  "Wh-Who said anything a-a-about romance?" she choked out.

Gunnar's already nonplussed expression seemed to blank even more.  Fighting down the livid blush that threatened, Saori sped past him out of the elevator and through the foyer of the impressive building, veering to the right, across from the huge, circular reception desk, toward the glass walls and door of the upscale tea room that was a very popular place for people to conduct casual meetings or to grab a bit of refreshment before heading up to the offices above.

Slipping into the nearest empty table, Saori hurriedly buried her face behind a plastic-encased menu, all before Gunnar could sit down across from her.  He didn't reach for a menu, though, and instead lifted a hand to bring a waitress scurrying over.

"You're acting weird," he pointed out under his breath.  Glancing up at the waitress, he didn't smile, but he didn't have to.  This cousin of hers had an uncanny way of making women practically fall at his feet, after all, and now was no exception.  Saori rolled her eyes as the waitress' cheeks pinked, her gaze skittering nervously to meet his, only to flick away, back and forth in an entirely ridiculous display of girlish angst.  "Two teas," he said.  "Would you like anything else, Saori-chan?"

Saori peeked over the top of her menu.  "No, thank you," she replied.

The waitress chirped out something that sounded like it was meant to be a giggle before hurrying away once more.

"What are you doing in Japan, anyway?" she demanded before he could elaborate on her 'weird' behavior.

Settling back in the chair, Gunnar slowly shook his head, his impeccable hair, shimmering in the hazy bluish light, floating around him in a ripple of kinetic flow.  "In a word?  Okaa-san."

"Reminded you how long it's been since she's seen your face?"

He nodded slowly.  "That, and tou-san wanted an update on a few cases that Bas and I have been working on."  Pausing long enough to nod at the waitress while she set the tea on the table, he waited until she was moving away before continuing.  "Don't think I don't know that you're trying to change the topic."

"What was the topic?" she quipped.

She should have known that her little attempts at distraction would never work on this particular cousin, anyway.  "Your strange behavior just now."

"I'm not acting strangely," she insisted, hoping that he couldn't see right through her as she took her time, closing the menu and setting it back in the wire rack.  "As for Fai-sama . . . It really wasn't as bad as everyone thinks."

"They said he arrested you," Gunnar pointed out indelicately.

She sighed, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear as she frowned into her tea.  "That's what he said," she agreed slowly, "but . . . but he didn't actually treat me like I was under arrest.  All he did was take away my phone, and that wasn't really a big deal—or it wouldn't have been if nii-chan hadn't freaked out over it . . ."

"Rinji-san worries about you.  Everyone does.  You know that you're entirely too impulsive, don't you?"

That earned him a rather petulant little frown.  "You would have been, too, if you had spent any time around those pups.  I'll admit, I was desperate, but you know, if I hadn't done what I did, then he would have cut off the funding, so I can't be sorry for it.  I'm not sorry."

"I know you're not.  So does everyone else.  That's the whole problem," he pointed out.  "You have everyone in the family up in arms; all of them think that it's just a matter of time before Fai-sama tries to force the issue.  It doesn't matter what words you want to use to describe what you did, you still kidnapped a tai-youkai, and that is just not something that can be brushed off.  The only thing that saves you from being charged with treason is that you're not from his jurisdiction.  Can you understand that?"

"I'm not a child!  Of course, I understand.  He knows why I did what I did, and he doesn't hold it against me," she insisted, wishing for the life of her that she believed her own words as much as she wanted it to sound like she did.  "Besides, when the van broke down, he started to go back home, but then he followed me instead, so I really only appropriated him for a couple days.  After that, I guess you could say that he . . . He came along with me of his own volition.  Then Dmitri and I took some of the children camping, and he wanted to come along, which is probably for the best since those Bershetoyev cousins made me go with them—Well, Nikolai did.  Pavel was shot in the shoulder, and he needed me to give him first aid . . ."

"What are you talking about?"

Saori shrugged, sipping her tea as she considered those few frantic hours . . . "Fai-sama and his brother found me—rescued me, I guess you could say—even though I wasn't really in any danger, but I suppose they didn't realize that at the time."  Trailing off, Saori sighed inwardly as the memory faded.  Gunnar looked like he was ready to reach across the table and give her a good shake, and she sighed.  "Fai-sama . . . He's a very kind man.  I don't think he likes to show it.  He thinks he needs to be tougher than anyone else . . ."

He scowled at her for a long moment.  She didn't look at him, but she could feel his frown, boring into her skull.  Then he let out a deep breath—about as close to a sigh as he ever made, anyway.  "He's got a lot of enemies, Saori-chan," he finally said.  "That's what I hear, anyway.  You're better off here."

She didn't miss the rest of that sentence—the part he didn't say out loud, and she rubbed her arms to chase away the bumps that rose on her skin, even though she wasn't at all cold.

' _Where it's safe._ '

That was what he hadn't said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
> **_MMorg_ **
> 
> Silent Reader ——— xSerenityx020 ——— Goldeninugoddess ——— DNSora
> 
> ==========
> 
> **_AO3_ **
> 
> Okmeamithinknow ——— Monsterkittie ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— Amanda Gauger ——— WhisperingWolf ——— Bonnie
> 
> ==========
> 
> **_Forum_ **
> 
>  -- -- --
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Gunnar_** :  
>  _That girl_ …


	23. 022: Sour

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_22_** ~~  
~ ** _Sour_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Tapping the button to end the intercom connection of his cell phone, Inutaisho Sesshoumaru pushed away from the desk and stood up to wander over to the tall bank of windows that overlooked the garden behind the mansion situated on the outskirts of Tokyo.  It was a warm and sun-drenched, late spring day, and yet, he couldn’t quite shake the strange feeling that something was happening—something that he just couldn’t see . . . Just out of the range of his perception, it felt like something that was whispered on the wind more than an actual, concrete sense, and as normal as everything was, it was a foreboding that he simply could not shake . . .

There was nothing at all to suggest that anything was amiss, but over the years, Sesshoumaru had learned to give credence to this feeling.  It wasn’t something that happened often, but that didn’t matter, either.  The times when he’d felt it before, he’d always come to realize later that it was a warning.

But why?

It was that same feeling that had led him to call Cain, the North American tai-youkai, who had assured him that everything was fine on that side of things.  Then he’d placed calls to Australia, South America, Africa, and even Europe, despite knowing that there really was no way that MacDonnough was going to tell him much of anything, and he was right.  The only tai-youkai he hadn’t called, as a matter of fact . . .

‘ _Faine-san . . ._ ’

‘ _And will we call him . . .?_ ’

Frowning slightly at the question posed by his youkai-voice, Sesshoumaru didn’t move toward the desk, either, as his gaze swept over the rolling lawn outside.

“Tou-chan, are you busy?”

Brushing aside the unsettling thoughts for the moment, he didn’t turn to acknowledge his daughter’s intrusion.  “Aiko,” he said.  “I always have time for you.”

She laughed, and for a brief moment, the long-past chime of her childish giggles echoed in his head.  He’d always loved the sound, and he appreciated the more mature tone as she’d grown older, too.  Still, the memory was enough to bring a fleeing sense of moments long past.  “Kaa-chan asked me to see if there was anyone else you wanted to add to the guest list for the fundraiser before she finalizes it and submits the list to the printer.”

“Not that I can think of,” he allowed, finally turning away from the window, though he made no move to return to his desk.  “I’m sure Kagura’s list is fine.”

Peering down at the slim-file in her hands, she tucked a long strand of silver hair behind her ear before nudging her wire-rimmed glasses up her nose with a crooked finger.  “Okay . . . Oh, I know we normally don’t send invitations to our overseas relatives, but Gin-chan mentioned that Evan would be in Japan around that time on his world tour.  Should we send him one?”

Gritting his teeth, Sesshoumaru let out a deep breath.  “That one . . .”

Aiko laughed.  “He behaves himself very well when he’s representing family,” she reminded him.

Sesshoumaru’s expression said quite plainly that he wasn’t entirely in agreement with his daughter’s statement.  “I suppose it can’t be helped,” he allowed.

Aiko nodded, settling in a chair across from the desk to type in Evan’s name on the guest list.  “All right.”

Striding back to his desk once more, Sesshoumaru sank down, propping his elbows on the armrests, tapping the tips of his fingers together slowly, methodically.  “How is Saori?”

Aiko’s smile dimmed slightly, and she sighed as she met her father’s gaze.  “Well, she’s fine,” she began, very obviously choosing her words.

“Is she still upset with me?”

“She’s not upset with you . . .”

Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow.  “So, she hasn’t been referring to me as ‘ojii-sama’?”

Aiko wrinkled her nose.  “Well, there’s that . . .” she admitted.

Sesshoumaru nodded.  “It makes no sense.  She was arrested—granted, Faine had every right to do that, given the situation.  She barely said two words to me, the whole trip home, and she hasn’t spoken to me since, even when delivering files for Toga.”

Aiko slowly shook her head.  “Maybe . . . Maybe she didn’t want to come home . . . Or maybe . . .” Aiko sighed.

“Maybe . . .?” he prompted when she trailed off.

Scrunching up her shoulders, she licked her lips.  “Maybe she . . . didn’t want to be . . . rescued.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Aiko.  She was _arrested_.”

“But she said that he never treated her like a prisoner,” Aiko pointed out.

Frown deepening as he considered his daughter’s words, Sesshoumaru nodded slowly.  “Toga said that Faine called him a few days ago—wanted Saori’s phone number.”

“Did he give it to him?”

“Of course not,” Sesshoumaru replied.  “No, I don’t like it.  There’s something strange going on.  I feel it.  I’m not sure, however, what to make of it.”

“Your feeling?”

He nodded once.

Aiko nodded, too.  “Well, it could be nothing at all,” she allowed rather philosophically.  “But then, I don’t think they were together long enough to really get a good grasp of the situation, either.  Maybe it’s as simple as a little unfinished business.”

Sesshoumaru stared at Aiko for a long moment. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” she replied.  “I just know that Saori . . .”

“Saori, what?”

Blinking away her reverie, Aiko forced a smile as she pushed herself out of the chair.  “Oh, nothing,” she replied brightly and held up the slim-file.  “I’ll leave this with kaa-chan.”

He watched her go, his frown deepening thoughtfully.  He wasn’t obtuse enough not to realize that Aiko was most certainly keeping part of it from him, but that wasn’t the issue; not really.  His children and grandchildren were entitled to their privacy, and if they wanted to tell him things, they would.  He knew this, and he allowed it, and whatever was going on in this situation should be handled in the same way, but . . .

But the idea of Saori, getting caught up in something that could potentially cost her her freedom?  Sesshoumaru wasn’t entirely sure that it was a price he was willing to sit back and watch her pay, either . . .

Even so . . .

 

* * *

 

 

“Why haven’t you closed the orphanage?”

Settling back in the comfortable chair as he stared into the glass of vodka in his hand, Fai didn’t move his head as he shifted his gaze to meet Evgeni’s, who was settled on the sofa across from him in the sparsely decorated receiving room.  “I found that I could keep it open,” he replied in a tone that should have indicated that the subject wasn’t open to debate.

Evgeni’s thoughtful frown darkened.  “For how long, Fai?” he asked, shaking his head.

“They cut their budget by a third.  It’ll be fine,” Fai insisted, “and it isn’t open to debate.”

Evgeni sighed at the set-down, but, true to form, he didn’t let it go.  To be honest, Fai would have been surprised if he had . . . “I know it was your dear mother’s pet project,” he said, his tone taking on a certain reverence that only colored his voice when he dared to bring up Fai’s late parents, especially his mother.  “You’re spreading yourself so thin, though . . . You can’t keep all these programs on the books and think that it’ll be all right.”

“I know my budget well enough,” Fai responded tightly.  “You don’t have to worry about it.  It’s my responsibility, not yours.”

Settling back, Evgeni stared at him for a long moment.  “What’s bothering you?” he finally asked.  “You seem so tense, so . . .”

“Everything’s fine,” Fai insisted once more, downing the vodka, willing his noticeably short fuse to even out.  “I just have things on my mind.  That’s all.”

“Like Yerik?  Are you sure that it’s a good idea, sending him out on hunts?”

“Yerik is capable, and it’s what he’s chosen to pursue,” Fai said.

“He’s so young . . .”

“I would not send him out if I didn’t have every confidence that he can handle it,” Fai remarked.  “He’s already gone on a couple hunts, and he’s done very well.”

Evgeni didn’t look entirely convinced.  “If you’re certain . . . I mean, at this point, he is your heir . . .”

“Are you questioning my decisions, Gen?”

Blinking quickly, the older man had the grace to flush at the very obvious set-down.  “Of course not, Fai.  I just worry what your father would have said . . .”

“I didn’t make the decision on a whim,” Fai went on.  Then he sighed, thumping the empty glass on the table with a heavy clatter to emphasize the closing of the topic.  “By the way, there was something I wanted you to look into for me.”

“Oh?  What’s that?”

“While I was . . . away . . . my accounts were frozen.  They said that it was because of a charge they’d questioned, which was fine, but they froze all of my accounts, not just my personal one.  I’d like you to see if there was something they weren’t telling me, given that you work at the bank . . .”

“Oh . . . All right,” he agreed.  “I’ll see what I can find out.”

Fai stood up when Evgeni did, stepping over to walk the older man to the door.  “I appreciate it,” he said.

Evgeni waved off Fai’s thanks.  “It’s my job, right?  Is there anything else you require of me?”

“No,” Fai said.

“I’ll call when I find anything out,” he offered.  Then he inclined his head before slipping out of the foyer.

The heavy thud of the closing door echoed in the quiet, and Fai let out a deep breath.  Luckily, the repairs on his office had been completed a few days ago, so he hadn’t had to explain that.

He frowned.  Just why was it that he was so reluctant to talk about Saori?  For some reason, there was such an intensely personal feeling whenever he thought about her that the idea of sharing her, even just in speech . . . It bothered him.

‘ _Because you want to keep her for yourself?_ ’

Scowling as he strode down the hallway that led to the office, Fai dug his phone out of his pocket, scrolled through the pictures in the memory to find the one of Saori that he hadn’t seen before she left.  Taken at the distillery during their visit, he hadn’t realized that she’d gotten a hold of his phone at some point, long enough to snap a silly picture of herself, complete with the white paper hairnet that everyone was required to wear in the facility.

She was smiling sweetly, her eyes uncannily bright—a little vague, slightly reddened since she was already quite drunk, but she was leaning against a thick wood table . . . He’d found the selfie quite by accident while looking for an image that Yerik sent him.

He didn’t want to share her picture with anyone, either.

It really wasn’t any kind of feeling that he wanted to keep her for himself, though.  No, it was more of a feeling that the more of her he gave away, the less of her would remain with him, if that made any sense . . .

‘ _Fai . . ._ ’

Closing the doors behind himself, he paused just for a moment before sending the image to the printer.  ‘ _Hmm?_ ’

His youkai-voice heaved a sigh.  ‘ _I miss her . . . I miss her a lot . . ._ ’

Fai didn’t respond to that.  He didn’t have to.  There wasn’t a point to it, anyway, was there?  He’d already tried everything he could, including pulling her number off her old phone.  Unfortunately, her number was changed—which didn’t honestly surprise him, but did frustrate him, just the same.  He’d even broken down and called Dmitri at the orphanage, but he said that he hadn’t heard from Saori since she was so unceremoniously arrested, and that just figured, too.

No, he thought with an inward sigh as he waited for the printer to finish.  There wasn’t any point to whining about what he simply couldn’t change . . .

And there really was no point at all in admitting that, yes . . . He missed her, too . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Tapping twice against the doorframe of the bright and airy office, Saori took a step back to wait.  This was her last errand of the day for Toga, and she sighed.

“Come in.”

She pushed against the door that was already open a crack before stepping inside the room she knew well enough.  “Oji-chan sent this over,” she said, striding forward, the soft soles of her house shoes whispering, scuffling against the polished wood floor.  “He said that there’s no rush, but that he would like your opinion on the matter.”

Sesshoumaru nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing just a little on her face.  “ _Arigatou gozaimashita_ ,” he said, holding out an articulated hand to take the file from her.  She handed it over and bowed before she turned to go.

He was faster.  “Take a seat, Saori,” he said, his tone leaving no room for her to argue with him.  Seeing no way around it, she reluctantly sank into the nearest chair, crossing her ankles demurely, hands clasped in her lap as she waited for him to continue.  He regarded her with maddening meticulousness that made her want to fidget.  She didn’t.

Finally, he sat back, setting the file aside as he continued to regard her with that unsettling gaze that had made lesser men crumble.  “Talk to me, my grandchild.  Tell This Sesshoumaru what it is that you’re thinking.”

“Everything’s fine,” she blurted, gaze falling away as a surge of heat washed into her cheeks.

“Is that so?”

She jerked her head once in a nod.  “Yes . . .”

He considered that for a moment, nodding very slowly.  “Then tell me why you have been referring to me as, ‘-sama’.”

She made a face for a split second.   “You didn’t really have to tear Fai-sama’s home apart,” she grumbled, latching onto the most readily available excuse.

“And yet, that was not my doing, but your hot-headed jii-chan,” he pointed out reasonably.  “I trust you’ve seen the results of his wielding of Tetsusaiga to differentiate as much.  Truth, Saori.”

She sighed, scrunching up her shoulders in a rather pathetic shrug as she let go of all pretenses to the contrary and dug the toe of her slipper against the plush Persian rug under her feet.  “The only thing he did was to take away my cell phone,” she finally muttered, bringing her gaze up to meet Sesshoumaru’s, as though she were daring him to call her a liar.

“Is that so?”

She nodded again.  “Yes . . .”

He shifted his mouth sideways, considering what she said, and then he licked his lips before speaking, but his tone was more thoughtful, as though he were hearing— _really_ hearing—what she was saying.  “Is there . . . something between the two of you?  Something you haven’t mentioned?”

Again, she could feel the blossom of heat under her skin as she quickly shook her head.  “Uh, n-n-no,” she blurted, her gaze skittering away, only to dart back and then slip to the side once more.  “I-I mean, he . . . he said I was . . . was beautiful, but it wasn’t like he . . . wasn’t like he really meant it in that kind of way . . .”

Eyebrows rising to disappear under the fringe of his parted bangs, Sesshoumaru lowered his chin slightly.  “Did he?”

She flinched.  “He was just warning me,” she admitted.

“Warning you about what?”

It took her a moment to gather her thoughts, and she sighed.  “It was just because of the wolves.  He thought that they’d taken me for . . . Well, I don’t know why, but he only wanted me to help his cousin who had been shot, so . . .” She made a face.  “Anyway, that’s why.”

“Wolves, Saori?”

It occurred to her that she was borderline-babbling, and she nodded.  “When we took the children camping—it was kind of my way of saying goodbye to them—a wolf-youkai showed up because he’d seen me give first aid to one of the children who twisted his ankle.  He grabbed me and dragged me off, but he just wanted me to help his cousin, was all . . . Fai-sama and his brother found me and, well, I guess you could say they rescued me, even though I didn’t need rescuing . . .”

Sesshoumaru stared hard at her for a long minute.  Then he choked out a terse laugh.  “I have no idea, just how you manage to find so much trouble, Saori,” he said, though he wasn’t unkind.  If anything, he sounded entirely amused.  “And that’s when Fai told you that you’re beautiful.”

She nodded.  “Yes.”

“But then, he had you arrested.”

She grimaced since there were just some things that she had no desire at all to tell her great and mighty grandfather, and the idea that she was forward enough to kiss Fai?  That was one of those things.  “Well, yes . . .”

“But there’s nothing going on between the two of you.”

“N-No . . .”

He still seemed rather amused, even though Saori had no idea why that might be.  In the end, however, he nodded.  Saori bit her lip.  Sure, she was still a little irritated at the way her family had chosen to intervene.  Even so, a part of her really could understand their reasoning, even if she didn’t like it, and her grandfather?  Sesshoumaru wasn’t the kind of person who was used to sitting around and doing nothing when it involved one of his own, and she supposed she could understand that, too . . . “Stop in and say hello to obaa-chan before you leave,” he told her.

She let out a deep breath, sensing that the worst of the impromptu interrogation was over.  “I will,” she promised, rising to her feet.  She moved toward the door, but stopped before letting herself out of the office.  “I’m going now . . . ojii-chan.”

He smiled just a little as she slipped out of the room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Arigatou gozaimashita_** _: Thank you (past tense) for a something someone has done for you; in this case, Saori delivered a file_.
> 
>  ** _A note on honorifics here_** _.  Saori has been raised in a very loving family, of course, and, as such, she tends to use -chan a lot when talking to them: her mother, her father, her grandfather, etc.  However, she has reverted to using -sama when addressing Sesshoumaru because she’s upset with him.  It is highly respectful and does denote a certain elevation of someone’s position.  In this case, she uses it to be more formal with the person (Sesshoumaru) who she’s upset with_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— patalaxe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** cutechick18 ——— Nate Grey
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Sesshoumaru_** :  
>  _He told her that she’s beautiful, did he_ …?


	24. 023: Slow Burn

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_23_** ~~  
~ ** _Slow Burn_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

The tick of the clock echoed in the silence with a rhythm and unrelenting drumming that was enough to drive her insane.

It was like this every night.

Letting out a deep breath, Saori blinked as she stared up into the darkness, her arms crossed over her stomach on top of the duvet.  She could hear herself blink.

Almost three weeks.

It had been nearly three weeks since she’d returned home, back to the safety and familiarity of this place.  This room used to bring her such solace, especially when she was feeling particularly down, when she’d tried to figure out why boys never noticed her, when she had done poorly on an important exam or something like that.

Now?

Now it wasn’t nearly the same, and the trouble was, she didn’t know why.

Odd, too, was the conspicuous silence of her normally verbose youkai-voice.  She wasn’t entirely sure what it meant.

‘ _If you must know, I’ve been thinking._ ’

‘ _Oh, there you are.  Thinking?  Thinking about what?_ ’

A quiet sigh punctuated the voice’s words.  ‘ _About a lot of things . . . About this weird sense of being entirely unsettled.  Surely you feel that, too?_ ’

Brows drawing together in the filmy dark, Saori rolled onto her side and forced herself to close her eyes.  ‘ _It feels like . . . like something’s missing, doesn’t it?_ ’

‘ _Yes, that feeling.  You know, it’s hard to breathe, isn’t it?_ ’

Her eyes slowly opened as she gnawed on her lower lip.  “Hard to breathe,” she echoed, her voice barely a whisper.

‘ _Not for real—not in the literal sense.  More like, it just feels . . . Remember when we went skiing and the lift took us way up to the top of the mountain?  How thin the air was, how you had to really breathe deep to get rid of that light-headedness?  That’s how it feels, don’t you think?_ ’

Saori nodded vaguely.

‘ _We miss him, you know?  A lot . . . So, I’ve been trying something, but it hasn’t worked—at least, I don’t think it has.  I’d hoped . . ._ ’

‘ _Tried what?_ ’

Again, her youkai sighed.  ‘ _I was trying to feel him—Fai-sama.  I thought that if I tried hard enough—stretched myself out far enough . . . But it didn’t work.  I guess we’re too far away—or . . . Or he just doesn’t care . . ._ ’

That thought was enough to make her wince.  Of course, she’d have to be stupid to think that it would matter to him.  Why should it?  Everyone had gone out of their ways to let her know just how foolish they thought she was, in the first place, and yes, she had to agree.  Kidnapping the Asian tai-youkai was a stupid, stupid idea, and she knew that, too: just another example of how her lack of foresight got her into trouble time after time after time . . .

Even so . . .

‘ _He’s probably glad to have his life back to normal,_ ’ she thought, fighting through the deep and horrible pang that settled in her stomach.  ‘ _It was a nice idea, though . . ._ ’

Her youkai didn’t argue with her.  In fact, it sighed again.  ‘ _There’s no sense in dwelling on the past, right?  That’s what they say, anyway . . . Besides, that school in Morocco called to request an interview with you, so that’s something._ ’

‘ _Morocco . . ._ ’ she mused.  On the one hand, the idea of moving to Morocco wasn’t exactly appealing to her.  To be so far from her family again . . . and yet, that same thought was enough to make her seriously consider it, too.  At least there, she could move on without being constantly reminded that she had done something foolish—again.

Well, that wasn’t entirely fair.  No, it wasn’t like her family was still harping on it, but that didn’t really matter when she saw it in their expressions when they thought she wasn’t looking, that sense of befuddlement, like they just couldn’t grasp why she’d opted to do what she had done.

The truth of it was that over the course of her life, she’d always felt a little bit like the proverbial black sheep of her upstanding and highly respected family.  All of them excelled in their chosen professions, in their lives.  Even the one person that the entire family considered to be kind of a pariah was an internationally famous rock star, but Saori?

She was the one that everyone knew made decisions that didn’t always make sense.  She was the one who was always doing things that made them shake their heads, and yes, it was always with love and affection that they’d point out how silly some of her choices really were.  It didn’t really do much to alleviate the horrible feeling that she wasn’t much more than a huge disappointment . . .

Even her second-cousin, Samantha was excelling in her chosen field, despite the reservations that the rest of the family had about it since Samantha had opted to become a hunter—not exactly the best job for a woman.  She was about a year younger than Saori, though in truth, the two had never been that close.  Samantha was always so focused on training, on bettering her skills for her dream of becoming a hunter.  She tended to be a bit more serious overall, a little on the shy side.  Since Saori’s family had spent a good amount of her younger years, living in Hong Kong, the two hadn’t developed the kind of relationship that many of her other relatives had in their own age groups, and by the time the Senkuro family had finally moved back, Samantha already had her circle of friends.

The thing was, she’d never felt quite as isolated in her life, despite the proximity of those who loved her, as she did now.  There were things in her head—things she couldn’t really put into words—things that they wouldn’t understand, even if she could.  She felt so unsettled, as though some part of her was missing, and it wasn’t something she could really articulate, either.  Afraid that they would think she was even more flighty than they already did, and even the people she would normally feel that she could talk to about anything . . . She didn’t really feel that way now.

‘ _What is it that you want to do?_ ’

That was the big question, wasn’t it?  Too bad she really didn’t have an answer for it, either.

No, the only thing she did know was that, with every day that passed, with every morning that she opened her eyes, only to find that there really wasn’t anything magical, just waiting right around the corner, that there wasn’t anything other than the same old thing, dressed up in a slightly different way—just enough to keep her from going insane, not nearly enough for her to feel as though any of it held any real significance at all . . .

The flash of eyes—not quite brown—flecked in golds as brilliant as her grandfather’s, emerald flickers of light that sparkled and shone . . . She couldn’t discern the expression as they faded from her mind, and she winced.  In her head, she could hear his soft laughter—he hadn’t indulged the sound often, but the couple times she’d heard him . . . And she knew that she really had no right to dwell upon those memories.  They really didn’t belong to her, and, as much as she hated to admit it, even just to herself, she had to allow that she’d stolen those, too.

Those moments weren’t meant to be hers, and if she hadn’t forced the issue by tossing the unconscious man into that van, they never would have been.  But . . .

‘ _Maybe tomorrow . . ._ ’ she thought as she closed her eyes once more.  ‘ _Maybe tomorrow, things will be different . . . Maybe, if I . . . if I could just hear his voice one more time . . .?  Maybe it’d be easier to let go of him . . ._ ’

Her youkai sighed softly: more of a breath than an actual sound.  ‘ _We don’t have his number, Saori, and anyone who does isn’t going to be very interested in handing it over to you._ ’

Sometimes, she really hated that voice.  Sometimes she wished that it would just let her hang onto things just a little bit longer . . .

‘ _It’ll be okay, Saori . . . It will be.  Just . . . Just close your eyes, try to sleep.  Maybe we can figure something out tomorrow . . ._ ’

‘ _Maybe,_ ’ Saori agreed half-heartedly, squeezing her eyes closed for a second before letting out a deep breath as she snuggled deeper under her duvet, into her pillow.

Too bad she didn’t really believe it.

 

* * *

 

 

‘ _Where . . . am I . . .?_ ’

 _Narrowing his eyes as he slowly shifted his gaze over the hazy and murky darkened landscape, Fai struggled to make out something—anything—in the eerie quiet.  There was nothing at all, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t even sense the divide between the earth and the skies.  He couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began, and the place where he stood was dry but felt so strangely soft, pliant, under his bare feet_.

 _But where was he_?

 _Glancing behind himself at the miring darkness, his frown deepened.  He wasn’t afraid.  There was no sense of anything dangerous or out of sorts, but he knew that he hadn’t ever been in this place before_.

 _It felt like_ . . .

 _A vague scent came to him, one that entirely too thin for his liking—one that he knew as well as he knew his own.  Taking a slow step forward—strange how the cuffs of his trousers felt damp, but his feet were bone dry—he didn’t think, didn’t stop to consider it as an insular thought seemed to grow larger in his mind: he needed to follow that scent, had to find the source_ . . .

 _He stopped abruptly, almost as though he’d walked straight into an invisible wall.  Eyes flaring wide against the darkness that he couldn’t see through, he waited, breathless, half convinced that he was imagining things, half praying that he wasn’t . . . It came once more like a pulsebeat, like a flicker of an unfurling tide, so thin, so weak and thready that he couldn’t quite decide if he’d just wished it into being or if it really was true.  The stronger the compulsion grew to give chase, the more he held back, as though the idea that he might well be disappointed in the end could hurt him_ . . .

 _It felt like_. . .

 _Blinking quickly when a soft glow erupted in the distance, Fai started walking again, only this time, as he placed one foot in front of the other, he could feel his pace quickening in time with the light that brightened by degrees.  He didn’t know what he’d find once he reached it, no, but he couldn’t stop the wild syncopation of his heart as it hammered against his ribcage: a wanton heartbeat that left him feeling light-headed, almost . . . almost giddy_ . . .?

 _He didn’t know how long he ran, how far he pushed himself as he chased after that elusive horizon.  He couldn’t tell if he was drawing closer or not or if he had simply been running all this time in one place.  All he knew was that, if he could just reach it, that light . . . If he could stand in the brilliance of it, maybe_ . . .

 _It felt like_ . . .

 _Skidding to a halt as he stepped into the circle of light, Fai blinked, dropped to his knees, reached out so slowly, hand shaking as Saori’s scent wrapped around him.  Just before he could touch her, though, he jerked his hand away, scowling at her straight back, her hair stirred by a breeze that didn’t touch him.  She was humming under her breath, but he couldn’t hear her voice.  No, he could_ feel _it, couldn’t he?  Could feel the reverberations of the sound that didn’t cut through the silence . ._.

“ _Saori . . .?_ ”

 _His voice was swallowed up by the unearthly stillness, too.  She reached down, sank her fingers into the nothingness beneath her, and he watched, eyes narrowing, as a softness spread from her, radiated away from her, bringing with it the sprigs of spring grasses, of wildflowers and rolling hills that he knew so well.  As the grass spread, the light brightened, the skies seemed to soak colors from the ground as a hazy, lazy blue became the heavens above_.

 _And she laughed.  “Fai-sama?  Is that you?_ ”

“ _Saori . . .” he said again, only this time, his voice held sound despite the softness of his timbre.  “I_ . . .”

 _She scooted around to face him, her eyes as brilliant as he remembered, and he closed his eyes as the scent of her hit him, full-force, as he drank it in like a man lost in a desert, and she was his oasis_.

“ _I’m sorry that I . . . I appropriated you,” she finally said, her voice taking on a rueful sort of tone.  “I don’t know what I was thinking_.”

“ _You were thinking about the children,” he reminded her, slowly scooting in beside her, drawing up his legs, draping his arms casually around them.  “It’s okay.  I . . . I didn’t really mind_ . . .”

“ _You . . . You didn’t . . .?” she echoed, eyes rounding wide as she stared up at him_.

 _He reached over, caught her hair that flew into her face, only to gently tuck it behind her ear.  “Are you . . .? Are you happy where you are?  Tokyo?_ ”

 _Her gaze held onto his for a long moment, but suddenly, it skittered away, falling to the grass, as she gave a little shrug, as the smile on her lips trembled and quivered.  “It’s home,” she replied.  Something in her voice . . . “It’s the largest city on earth.  You could wander around it for days—weeks—and not see the same person twice, not see the same buildings twice.  It’s_ . . .”

“ _But . . . are you_ happy _, Saori?_ ”

 _She didn’t answer right away.  It seemed to Fai that she was gathering her bravado, although why that would be, he didn’t know.  Her entire family was there, weren’t they?  And family was important . . . “I’m happy,” she said, her smile brightening as her gaze took on a steadiness that was almost frightening, although he didn’t know why_.

“ _I’m glad,” he said, hoping she couldn’t hear the underlying emotion that echoed harshly in his own ears_.

 _She sighed, letting her head fall back, her eyes closing as the sun poured down on them.  “This is nice,” she allowed at length, her voice taking on an almost lyrical quality.  “I haven’t slept very well since I got back, actually_ . . .”

“ _You haven’t?” Fai echoed with a frown.  “Neither have I . . . Uh, not since you left_ . . .”

“ _Really?_ ”

 _He shook his head, let out a deep breath as he flopped back onto the ground.  Curiously, the sky started to darken, but it wasn’t losing color, either.  No, it was more like time was speeding up, and as the evening shadows fell along with the reds and golds and the sounds of birds in the trees far away, he smiled.  “But you’re sleeping now, aren’t you?_ ”

“ _Because we’re dreaming?” she mused, stretching out beside him, curled on her side, her hands tucked up under her cheek_.

 _Fai craned his neck to gaze at her, and without another thought, he pulled her against him, let her use his shoulder as a pillow as a contented little sigh slipped from her, as her hand pressed gently against his chest.  “Aren’t we?_ ”

“ _Fai-sama?_ ”

“ _Hmm?_ ”

“ _Do you think . . .?  I mean, if I hadn’t . . . hadn’t appropriated you, do you think . . .?_ ”

 _He frowned thoughtfully.  To be honest, he’d wondered the same thing himself.  If things hadn’t happened the way they did, would he have gone out of his way to get to know her at all?  In truth, it wasn’t something that had an easy answer; not really.  He’d like to say that he would have, but reality might not have supported that possibility, at all.  So wrapped up in my work, in the things he had to do, the deadlines he had to meet, everything he had to micromanage on a daily basis_ . . .

‘Not entirely true . . . You did notice at the very start, just how pretty she was.  She caught you off-guard because she really didn’t try to manipulate you or sway you with her appearance because that’s not who she is or what she is . . .’

“ _Would I have gotten to know you the way I did?” he supplied since she’d trailed off.  “I . . . I don’t know,” he admitted.  “It wasn’t you.  I just . . . I barely took the time to notice anything._ ”

 _She smiled just a little.  “Is it bad, then, that I’m really not sorry for it?  I mean, I am, but I’m not . . . That doesn’t make sense, I guess_ . . .”

“ _No, actually, it does,” he told her, breathing in deep—so deep—letting the scent of her muddle his thoughts, preoccupy his brain . . . “That’s not to say you should do that kind of thing again.  I mean, I can forgive one time, but if you did it again . . .?_ ”

“ _I won’t,” she promised.  “I learned my lesson_ . . .”

 _He sighed since he wasn’t entirely sure that he bought into that.  “Anyway, want to tell me how you managed to break into my dream?_ ”

 _She didn’t answer, but she did laugh softly as she snuggled just a little closer against him.  “I wanted to see you just one more time,” she ventured.  “I thought that it’d be easier to . . . to move on_ . . .”

 _He didn’t feel his arms tighten around her as his smile died away, as he scowled off into the distance.  “You . . . You want to move on_ . . .”

 _She sighed again, but it sounded almost tired, weary.  “I don’t have much of a choice,” she allowed.  “Everyone says that what I did was stupid, which it was . . . I think they’re afraid that you’ll come for me, want to throw me in prison or something, which is your right, isn’t it?  Because I kidnapped you_ . . .”

 _He grunted.  “The laws are a little more lenient for appropriation, Saori.  Don’t worry about that_.”

“ _I have an interview for a position at an academy in Morocco,” she said, her voice growing a little thicker, a little more slurred as sleepiness set in.  “It’d be a good place to make a new start_.”

 _For some reason, the things she was saying hurt.  The idea of her, making a new start?  That she might well leave him in her past . . .? “Will you . . .? Will you take it if they offer it to you?_ ”

 _She uttered a half-yawn, half-sigh and burrowed just a little closer to him.  “I guess so,” she mumbled.  “Here or there . . . doesn’t really . . . matter_ . . .”

 _He pondered that as the sound of her breathing evened out, took on that heavier cadence that indicated that she was sleeping_.

 _To be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret the whole thing.  After all, he had to be sleeping himself, and he understood that he was dreaming, and yet, if that were the case, then why did Saori feel so real to him?  Why would she have said the things she’d said?  He certainly wouldn’t have come up with that on his own, but_ . . .

 _But the idea of her, taking a job in Morocco?  Of her, getting her fresh start, away from her family, but also away from him_ . . .?

 _That just wasn’t all right with him, not at all_.

 _He sighed.  He’d figure it out in the morning.  Right now, however, he was done, wondering just how this was possible, how it was that she had managed to find her way into his dream like this, especially when he wasn’t really much of a dreamer normally.  For now, though, the warmth of her body so close to his, the sound of her steady breathing, the smell of her that lent him a measure of comfort that he didn’t question . . . It was enough, wasn’t it_?

‘Yeah . . .’ _he thought as his eyes drifted closed_.  ‘It’s enough . . .’

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _If you’re interested in seeing the faces of the men in this story (at least, who I picture when I write), I posted images in the facebook group, so feel free to join us_!
> 
> https://www.facebook.com/groups/227815614414830/
> 
>  _Have a great weekend_!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Favorite Author ( _thank you!_ ) ——— Silent Reader ( _poor Fai LOL_ ) ——— M ( _yep!_ ) ——— xSerenityx020 ( _Maaaaaybe …_ ) ——— Goldeninugoddess ( _You don’t, either?  LOL_ )
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— patalaxe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _What was that_ …?


	25. 024: Revelation

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_24_** ~~  
~ ** _Revelation_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

The office was quiet, the stillness broken only by the steady tick of the clock—an old and beautiful piece fashioned out of a stout branch of the ancient magnolia tree, Bokusenou.  It was a gift given to Sesshoumaru when he was recognized as his father’s heir-apparent, the one to eventually inherit the title of Inu no Taisho years ago.  There were only three such working clocks in existence, the first of those being Sesshoumaru’s, of course.  Toga was gifted one upon his birth, and the third was presented to Sesshoumaru’s grandson—Toga’s son—Mamoruzen.  Even now, Sesshoumaru could remember with vivid clarity, the day he and Kagura had presented their infant son—Sesshoumaru’s heir—to the old tree-youkai, as his great and noble father had done with him, well before Sesshoumaru could remember.  Bokusenou had smiled upon him, had summoned the timeless winds to blow.  Those winds had granted Toga their favor, strengthened by his mother’s natural affinity, and to that end, Toga had grown, strong and proud: the steadfastness of the tree, the will of the wind, with the heart of the inu-youkai.

It was legend that those clocks would stop their time the very moment that the owners lost their lives.  Somewhere in the recesses of the mansion, closed into a darkened room that housed the things that Sesshoumaru considered to be family heirlooms, rested his father’s clock: the hands stilled at the very second when his father had died so long ago . . .

When it came time, Toga and his mate, the human, Sierra, had taken Mamoruzen to Bokusenou, too, had asked for his blessings upon the future Japanese tai-youkai—the future Inu no Taisho—and, for the first time ever, Bokusenou had bestowed that special blessing upon a hanyou.

It was interesting, how much had changed over time.

The blessing of the Inu no Taisho couldn’t be given to a younger son, however.  Even so, Bokusenou had bid the Inu no Taisho to bring his mate, Izayoi—heavy with their unborn child—and it was then that the wise old tree had given their father instead, the sheathes for the Legendary Swords of the Fang: Tetsusaiga, the Sword of Earth, and Tenseiga, the Sword of Heaven.  Then, though he was not compelled to do so, Bokusenou had summoned the earthen fires—the flames that lived so deep within the ground.  The lore stated that the sacred fire was delivered by a host of fire rats— _hinezumi_ —and that those rats had transformed themselves into the fire-rat clothing that had come to InuYasha after his birth—the same clothes that protected InuYasha throughout his lifetime.

It was that fabled clock that chimed the hour as Sesshoumaru settled back in his chair, his gaze trained across the wide expanse of the cherry wood desk at his son-in-law.

“You think we should go there.  That’s what you’re saying,” Senkuro Seiji remarked, frowning thoughtfully as he considered all that his father-in-law had said—and some things that his mate, Aiko had said, too.  “Aiko believes that there might be more to it than either of them has said, but . . .” Brow furrowing as he leaned to the side far enough to rub his forehead in a slow and calculated kind of way, Seiji let out a deep breath.  “What if we’re wrong?  Opening up that door could be dangerous, don’t you think?  Saori . . .”

“She will not be accompanying us,” Sesshoumaru stated.  “I think it would be best not to tell her anything—at least, for now.  I think it best if we speak with Faine without her presence to complicate matters.  For the most part, I merely want reassurance that he will not seek further recompense from her for her impetuous actions.”

Seiji didn’t look like he wanted to agree, but he nodded once.  “How well do you know Demyanov Faine?”

Sesshoumaru was not surprised by Seiji’s candid question.  If anything, he’d rather expected that he would have asked that sooner, all things considered.  “In truth?  I don’t know him, at all.  The first time I met him was when we retrieved Saori.  However, I did know his father well enough.  If Fai is anything like him, he is a very competent, highly skilled young man.  I would say, though, that the fact that he detained her, but did not truly punish her as should be his right—maybe even his obligation—should speak volumes about his character.”

Seiji didn’t look very mollified by Sesshoumaru’s words.  “I’ve heard the rumors,” he said, his voice dropping in timbre and volume.  “They say that Russia is about as unsafe a region as there is—and if that’s true, then it’s a direct reflection on their tai-youkai.”

“He is young.  They will try him—they _have_ been trying him—and he’s proved his mettle and then some.  If it came to that, I have little doubt in my mind that he could keep her safe—and do you discount your own daughter’s ability to defend herself?”

Seiji pinned Sesshoumaru with an entirely unamused scowl.  “Of course not, but Saori isn’t a fighter.  She’s gentle like her mother.”

“And in that situation, too, I have no doubt that Aiko could well defend herself.”

“I have no doubt, either,” Seiji allowed.  “This isn’t about Aiko.  It’s about Saori—my _daughter_ —and . . . and _him_.  Those two . . . They’re not bonded.  Since she’s come home, Saori’s been a little distant, a little thoughtful lately, but physically, she’s fine.  They weren’t together long enough for that to happen . . . Maybe it would be better to just encourage her to move on.  She has an interview coming up for a job at a school in Morocco . . .”

“And you and I both know that what will be, will be.  No, Seiji, in this, I think it would behoove us to ascertain as much as we can and allow Saori herself to find her fate.”

“Her fate,” Seiji repeated with a wholly resigned sort of sigh.  It was difficult business, letting go of one’s child.  Sesshoumaru knew that as well as anyone because he’d fought against it harder than anyone, especially with Toga when it came time for him to look for his mate . . . Sesshoumaru knew very well, the thoughts and emotions at war in Seiji’s mind.  “I miss the days when I could tell her what to do, and she’d just do it,” he confessed with another heavy sigh as he leaned forward, as he buried his face in his hands for a long moment.  Letting his hands drop away to dangle between his spread knees, Seiji slowly shook his head.  “It’s the best I can do for her, isn’t it?”

Nodding very slowly, Sesshoumaru almost smiled—almost.  “Perhaps nothing will come of it,” he ventured, despite the doubt that he held on that front.  “I would still feel better once I speak with Faine—once I know that he isn’t still entertaining vengeful thoughts.”

“I . . . I agree . . .” Letting out a deep breath, Seiji sat back, stared at Sesshoumaru for a long moment.  Then he nodded.  “All right.  When should we go?”

 

* * *

 

 

“Good morning, kaa-chan!  Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

Glancing up from the e-reader where she was scanning the day’s headlines, Aiko smiled as Saori breezed into the kitchen and sank down at the table beside her.  “You’re in a good mood, Saori.  Did you sleep well?”

Uttering a little giggle as she helped herself to the food arranged in the middle of the table, Saori nodded her thanks, smiled brightly at the housekeeper-slash-cook that set a small bowl of rice beside her.  Then, like she had done since she was a child, she pressed her hands together, bowed her head, and uttered the customary, “ _Itadakimasu!_ ”

“And why are you so happy this morning?” her mother prompted.

“I slept insanely well!” she said, picking up her chopsticks and digging into her food with a gusto she hadn’t shown since her return to Japan.  “I had _such_ a good dream . . .”

Aiko laughed softly, golden eyes shining warmly in the sunshine tumbling through the window.  “Oh?  It must have been a really nice dream, then.”

Saori nodded.  Suddenly, though, she stopped, mid-chew, her cheeks blossoming in a hint of embarrassed color as she ducked her head.  “It was just . . . umm, really, really _nice_ . . .”

Aiko chuckled.  “All right; I won’t ask for details.  I’m glad, though, that you are in such a good mood . . . I’ve missed my girl’s smiling face.”

She wrinkled her nose.  “Have I been that bad?”

“Bad?  No . . . Just a little distracted, a little quiet . . .”

“Sorry,” Saori murmured.  “Where’s tou-chan?”

“He had an early meeting,” she replied, setting the tablet aside as she got to her feet.  “Speaking of meetings, I have to go, too . . . and nii-chan called.  He said that he needed you to stop by Kawagashi’s.  He ordered a new cell phone, and he doesn’t have time to pick it up.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, leaning into her mother when Aiko gave her shoulders a quick squeeze in passing.

“Have a good day, Saori!  _Ittekimasu!_ ” she called as she hurried into the hallway near the front door to slip on her shoes.

“ _Itterasshai!_ ” Saori called in response.  A few moments later, she heard the door open and close, and she let out a happy sigh.

Maybe it was foolish to feel so content over a silly little dream, but she couldn’t help it, either.  Seeing Fai, even in the confines of her sleep, was enough to bolster her flagging spirits, and falling asleep—crazy, given that she was already asleep—in Fai’s arms?

That was enough to make her blush all over again, and she giggled softly.

It had felt so _real_ , and that was the thing.  So real, in fact, that she couldn’t help the trace disappointment when she’d opened her eyes, only to find herself in her own bed in her own room in her own house, and not in that warm and wonderful field, surrounded by the scent of wildflowers . . .

The warmth of his body was so fresh in her mind, the sound of his heartbeat under her cheek, the feel of his arms, and he hadn’t let her go . . .

She only wished that it had been real.

‘ _Maybe it was._ ’

Pushing away from the table, Saori wrinkled her nose.  ‘ _I wish . . . I mean, it’s not possible.  Just a really perfect dream . . ._ ’

‘ _You don’t know that it’s not possible.  Just because it might not be a common thing doesn’t mean that it can’t happen._ ’

She sighed as she hurried up the stairs, heading for her bathroom to brush her teeth.  ‘ _That would be entirely too easy, don’t you think?  Even then, if it was a real, well, whatever, I don’t think that it would have been just like that.  It was almost like he . . . like he missed me as much as I miss him . . ._ ’

‘ _Maybe he does._ ’

She shook her head.  It was a lovely thought, sure, but she wasn’t delusional enough to think that there was even a chance that what her youkai-voice had said was possible.

Even so, it didn’t dampen her spirits, either.  Today, she wouldn’t allow it.  Today, she was going to savor that dream and cherish it for what it was—even if it wasn’t something that ever would really be . . .

 

* * *

 

 

“Here you go.”

Toga glanced up from the file he was looking over as Saori set the new phone, still in the box, on the desk.  “Thank you,” he said, leaning to the side to pull his old phone out.  “I’m a little busy here . . . Would you mind transferring my contacts?”

“Sure,” she said, slipping into a chair after taking both devices.  The new one was the latest model of the Viscue series, and the old one was at least three generations older.  For as much money that Toga had, he stubbornly refused to upgrade until his old phone was on its proverbial last legs, cracked screen and all.  “You know, this one has seen better days.  Why didn’t you get a new one sooner?”

Toga grunted without looking up from the file, his eyebrows drawn together in a thoughtful little scowl.  “I think Sie broke it,” he muttered.  “She says she didn’t, but it was fine the other night when I went to bed, but when I got up the next morning, it looked like that.”

Saori’s lips twitched at the almost sulky tone in her uncle’s voice.  “Are you sure it didn’t just fall off the nightstand?”

Toga snorted.  “It was laying on the charger where I put it.  The only difference was the broken screen.”

She had to clear her throat to keep from giggling.  “And you’re sure it was her?”

That earned her a quick but unimpressed glance.  “No one else comes into our bedroom, Saori, so yes, I’m sure it was her.  She’s devious.  I know you think she’s just sweet oba-chan, but I promise you, she’s got an evil streak that she’s really good at hiding.”

“I think you might be overexaggerating, oji-chan,” she chided, powering on the new phone.  “Even then, you can’t say it wasn’t about time to upgrade, anyway.”

Toga grunted.  “Oh, I’m not exaggerating a thing,” he assured her.  “When I showed the phone to her, she laughed— _laughed_.  Definitely guilty—and if it wasn’t broken, then there wasn’t a reason to upgrade.  Besides, I liked that phone.  I knew where everything was, I knew how to find all my important things . . . Now, I have to waste time, learning new stuff because they decided that this feature wasn’t accessible enough here or that one should be moved over there.”

“Oji-chan?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s just a new phone, and from what I’ve read, you’ll be very pleased with it, too—maybe even more than the old one.”

His snort stated that he doubted her words, turning his attention back to the file once more.

Hitting the buttons on the phones to tether them long enough to transfer all of his contacts, Saori frowned as names flashed over the new screen.  One of them in particular caught her attention, and she couldn’t quite contain the harshly indrawn breath as it disappeared in the transfer.  Something about just seeing his name was enough to set off a crazy, but not unpleasant, churning in her belly.  “You . . . You have Fai-sama’s phone number?” she asked, struggling to keep an air of neutrality in her tone.

“Hmm?  Fai?  Of course, I do.  I have all the tai-youkai’s numbers on there.”

She said nothing else as the phone finished transferring contacts.  Casting her uncle a surreptitious glance, only to find him, completely absorbed in his reading, she bit her lip and quickly scrolled through the contact list.  She told herself that she was just checking to make sure that everything was all right.  In truth, however, she was trying to find that number . . .

The device rang in her hands, and she squeaked out a choked little sound.  Sierra’s name popped up on the call screen, and Saori connected it via speaker phone.  “ _Hai_ , oba-chan,” she greeted.

“Saori?  You’re answering Toga’s phone now?”

Smiling a little self-consciously at her aunt’s teasing, Saori bit her lip.  “I just finished transferring his contacts to his new one,” she explained.  “Just a moment, please.” Holding out the phone, she waited until Toga took it.

“Sierra,” Toga said, leaving his mate on speaker phone.  “Hold on . . . Saori, go ahead and reset that one, and if you could drop it off at a recycling center?  And there wasn’t really anything else I needed done today, so you’re free to go—unless you want to hang out with your old oji-chan all day . . .”

“Oh, sure,” she said, seeing no way around it.  Ignoring the pang that shot through her, she did as he’d told her, commanding the old phone to reset.  Gathering her things, she stood up.  “I’ll be going, then,” she told him.  “Call me if you need anything else.”

“Thank you,” he called after her before returning his attention to his wife’s call once more.

Closing the door with a soft click, Saori let out a deep breath, wrinkling her nose as she frowned at the now-empty device.  If she’d only been able to get Fai’s number off his phone, she could call him, at least to hear his voice . . .

The good mood she’d carried around most of the day seemed to evaporate in the space of a heartbeat, and she sighed.  Somehow, she felt even more lost, even more alone, than she ever had before.

 

* * *

 

 

A deep grunt, the jarring clang of metal meeting metal as a shower of sparks shot out of the seam where the two blades met.  With a harsh shove against the weapon, Fai sent Yerik sliding back a few steps as he spun around, bringing the blade up and down in a blistering rain of fierce blows that Yerik managed to parry, just barely.

The strikes just kept coming.  Over and over again, Fai wasn’t holding back as he hammered at Yerik’s sword with his own.  Kamennyy-Nozh, Fai’s sword, seemed to utter a high-pitched kind of shriek that was undercut with every hit.  Yerik ground his teeth together and blocked—it was about all he could do at the moment.

“What’s gotten into you?” he ground out, blocking three more strikes in quick succession.

“Don’t lose focus, or I’ll hack you to bits,” Fai growled back.

“Seems like that’s what you’re already trying to do,” Yerik countered, taking advantage of a very brief lull to shove Fai back a few steps.  Grimacing yet again when Fai sprang toward him, swinging Kamennyy-Nozh once more, he managed to deflect the blade and hop back.  “Enough,” he called, sheathing his weapon as he glowered at his brother.

Fai scowled at his brother, but dropped his sword into the scabbard hanging from his hip.  In truth, he hadn’t spent nearly enough of his aggression.  Too bad that he’d probably end up causing some very real harm if he didn’t stop . . . “Your intensity is lacking,” he said instead, crossing his arms over his chest.  “A hunter cannot afford to slack off.”

“I wasn’t slacking off,” Yerik retorted.  “I, however, have no interest in usurping your title, Fai, so killing you off isn’t really an option.”

Fai snorted loudly.  “As if you could, Yerik.  Now, draw your sword again.”

“I won’t,” Yerik insisted, giving his head a stubborn shake to emphasize his words.  “Not unless you tell me what’s bothering you enough that you’re out for my blood.”

“No reason,” Fai said, “and I’m not.”

“Oh, really?” Yerik argued, holding out his arm and twisting it to examine the tear in his sleeve that hadn’t been there before.  His arm below it was fine, but Fai had managed to catch the sleeve with the tip of his sword.  “I liked this shirt, you realize.”

“Buy another one,” Fai grumbled.

Yerik sighed, letting his arm drop against his side once more.  “Is this about a certain dog-youkai?  A female?  Rather pretty?  One who is just a little more impulsive than she ought to be?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fai growled.  “Drop it.”

“All right; sure, but you know, as much as you miss her, has it occurred to you that maybe she misses you, too?  I mean, she did kiss you, after all, and from where I stood, it looked like a pretty good one . . .”

Fai narrowed his eyes on Yerik, but held his silence.

Yerik relented, striding past Fai and heading toward the patio.  “Have it your way, Fai, but being stubborn just for the sake of the act is really not a good thing.”

Fai watched him go, a dark scowl still twisting his features.

Saori.

He sighed.  Just the thought of her was enough to set his teeth to grinding once more.  Truth be told, he was more irritated with himself than he was with anyone else, and all because he really hadn’t meant to fall asleep in that dream or whatever it was.  He’d tried to stay awake, wanted to savor the feel of her, there with him, and then to wake up this morning, entirely alone, without even the lingering comfort of her scent on the bedsheets?

‘ _But what was that?  How was that even possible?  It . . . It wasn’t a regular dream . . ._ ’

‘ _No, you’re right.  It wasn’t._ ’

When his youkai-voice didn’t elaborate, Fai’s frown deepened, and he turned on his heel to stomp back inside.  ‘ _Then what the hell was it?_ ’ he finally demanded, stepping into the castle as Vasili neatly whipped the door open to allow him to pass.  The aged servant bowed his head.  Fai nodded, dismissing him from his mind as quickly and effortlessly as that while he headed toward his office.

‘ _I don’t know for sure, but I think . . . I think that her youki and yours managed to connect.  Maybe it’s as simple as you both falling asleep at the same moment or something . . . Who knows?  But she was here with us . . . She_ should _be here with us . . ._ ’

He didn’t know how to respond to that.  Even if he wanted to go find her, her family was never going to allow him anywhere near her, were they?  And, considering who her family was, the girl was likely to be guarded more securely than the Moscow Kremlin . . .

‘ _Yes, but you’re also forgetting.  You wanted to offer her the job of dealing with the orphanage, in helping to find placements for the children if possible.  Don’t you still want her help with that?_ ’

He flopped into the chair behind the stately desk, slumping to the side, rubbing his temple as the start of a blistering headache started to take hold.  ‘ _I do . . . but . . ._ ’

‘ _You realize, too, don’t you?  That dream last night—if she really was there with you—then you remember what she said, right?  She’s got an interview for a job in Morocco.  If they offer it to her, and she opts to go, that will complicate things a hell of a lot, don’t you think?_ ’

He sighed.  There was that, too . . .

The abrupt ringing of his telephone interrupted his thoughts, however, and, with another sigh, he reached over to grab the receiver.  “Demyanov.”

“Chang Laquan here, Your Grace.  I trust you’re well?”

Frowning at the warm tone from the Chinese ambassador and Chinese-egret-youkai, Fai sat back once more.  It wasn’t often that Laquan called, and it was never a social call.  Though he seemed to be willing enough to share information with Fai, Fai wasn’t entirely sure where the man’s loyalties really lay.  “Laquan, I am, and you?”

Laquan sighed.  “Fine, fine, thank you.  I’m sure you’re busy, so I’ll get right to the point.  I have it on good authority that Qiang Shui has been sighted in Moscow—Otradnoye.  I thought you would want to know.”

“Qiang . . . the rat-youkai . . .?”

“Yes.  He’s known to be responsible for more than twenty human deaths over the last fifteen years.”

“When was he spotted?”

“A little over an hour ago, my source tells me.  I have one of my men, keeping an eye on him so that he doesn’t manage to sneak away again.”

“Good.  I’ll send my hunter and have him call you when he arrives in case you find out anything else.”

“Absolutely.  I’m glad to be of service.  A beast like Qiang needs to be dealt with as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time, Your Grace.”

The line went dead, and Fai sighed.

It only took him a few minutes to pull the extensive file on the rat-youkai.  It was a better file than he often had, complete with a description and picture of Shui Qiang.  Letting out a deep breath, he sent the entire file to the printer, including he hunt order he’d issued years ago that had never been carried out since Qiang was very gifted in hiding.

Rising to his feet, he rounded the desk, pausing just long enough to snatch the papers from the printer before he strode out of the office and down the hallway, heading for the stairs.

He didn’t get far.  Yerik dropped a duffel bag on the floor as he turned to face Fai, a defiant kind of expression on his face.  “Where are you going?” Fai asked, cocking an eyebrow as he slowly and deliberately looked down at the bag.

“I’m going to find Saori,” Yerik replied.

“What?”

Yerik shrugged.  “Come on, Fai.  You’re unbearable—entirely insufferable—and you have been since she left.  If you’re too damned stubborn to go get her, then I will.  You can thank me later.”

“No, you’re not,” Fai growled, grabbing Yerik’s arm when the younger man reached down to retrieve his bag.

“Fai—”

“I need you to go to Moscow,” Fai cut in, thrusting the papers into Yerik’s hand.  “This is your target.  When you get there, call Laquan Chang at the Chinese embassy.  He currently has someone following Qiang, but his man doesn’t have the clearance to carry out the hunt.  You do.”

Yerik scowled at the documents.  “All right,” he finally said, rolling the papers in his fist, digging into the inner jacket pocket for his phone, which he fiddled with for a minute before Fai’s phone chimed to let him know that he’d received an email.  “I forwarded you the reservation for the flight to Tokyo—it’s in your name.  Be on it, and don’t come home without her.”

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he frowned at the itinerary.  Sure enough, the reservations were all in his name . . . “How is it in my name?”

Rolling his eyes, Yerik slowly shook his head.  “You don’t really think that I am foolish enough not to realize that you’d never let me go do what you want to do, anyway . . .”

“I don’t have time to go to Tokyo,” he argued with a snort.

“Are you trying to say that you’ve gotten anything done since she left?  Because you haven’t; not really.”

Fai opened his mouth to argue, but Yerik quickly shook his head.  “Just do it, Fai.  You’re miserable without her, and I’ll bet she’s just as miserable without you.  Just don’t arrest her this time.”

“Why not?”

Yerik chuckled, shouldering his bag as he headed for the front doors.  “Surely, you’ve figured it out, haven’t you?  I mean, it’s poor form to handcuff your future mate, don’t you think?”

His chuckles lingered in the foyer long after the door closed behind him, leaving a scowling Fai, staring at the itinerary.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _There's a teaser from an upcoming Redux posted in the facebook group, so feel free to check it out!_
> 
> **_Hinezumi_** _: Fire-rats_.
> 
>  ** _Itadakimasu_** _: To get (receive) or to take (humbly).  It is usually said before eating, either together as a unit or individually if one comes later to the table_.
> 
>  ** _Ittekimasu_** _: Literally, “I’m going.  I’ll come back (soon).”  The general feel of this (which is normally always said when leaving the home) is more of a, “See you later; I’ll be careful,” kind of statement_.
> 
>  ** _Itterasshai_** _: Literally, “You’re leaving.  You’re coming back (soon).”  The general feel of this (which is the typical response to ittekimasu) is more of a, “See you later; be careful, return safely,” kind of statement_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Amanda Gauger ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— Bonnie ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lovethedogs ——— lianned88
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _How did he know …? My what_ …?!


	26. 025: Humble Pie

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_25_** ~~  
~ ** _Humble Pie_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori settled into a chair across from Rinji in the opulent restaurant that he’d chosen, nodding her thanks at the maître d’ who had held out her chair and scooted it in for her.

“I’ll send your waiter right over,” he said with a polite bow.  “Enjoy your meal.”

“Congratulations,” Rinji said as the maître d’ strode away.  “Kaa-san told me that you were offered a job.”

The temerarious smile that was already trembling on her lips faded before she could stop it.  “Oh, uh, yes,” she mumbled.  “It’s a really wonderful opportunity.”

“So, you’ve already accepted it?” Rinji went on, oblivious to Saori’s discomfort.  “She said it’s in Morocco, though . . . I’ll miss you, you know.”

“I don’t know if I’ll take it,” she replied quietly.  “It’s . . . It’s so far away . . .”

“Are you afraid?”

She didn’t miss the hint of teasing in her brother’s tone.  It was how he cajoled her out of her fears.  It had worked marvelously when she’d gotten the jitters about going to Russia.  This time, however . . .

“Sorry I’m late,” Aiko said as she was seated between the two of them.  “I got sidetracked on the project and lost track of time . . .”

“Can I get you anything to start with?” the waiter asked with a bright smile.

“A bottle of your best champagne,” Rinji ordered.

“Would you prefer a Clannar d’ Fleur or a Marcomme?”

“The Marcomme,” Rinji said.  “The ladies prefer the chardonnay.”

“Very good.”  The man’s smile widened as he offered them a low bow.  “I’ll be right back.”

“So, what are we discussing?” Aiko asked, shaking out a napkin and slipping it over her skirt.

“We were just talking about Saori’s job offer,” Rinji explained.  “Must be nice to be traveling all over the world at your age . . . Back then, I was already working for tou-san and kaa-san . . .”

“If you wanted to travel, you could have,” Aiko pointed out gently.  “You could now, for that matter.”

“And leave tou-san alone to handle everything?  That doesn’t seem quite fair, don’t you think?”

Aiko rolled her eyes.  “He was able to do it for years before you ever came to work with us,” she reminded him, “and he did perfectly fine on this own then.”

“I don’t know if I’ll take it or not,” Saori said, careful to keep her tone light.

“Why wouldn’t you?  It’s an excellent school—highly reputable . . . They say if you work there, you can pretty well write your own ticket anywhere after that . . . Morocco is a gorgeous country with warm people . . . I mean, is there something about it that you don’t like or that you’re not comfortable with?  They offered to pay you to relocate, didn’t they?”

“She just got home, Rinji.  Maybe she’s not as keen on the idea of moving away again so soon,” Aiko said.  “If it doesn’t feel like the right fit for you, then you shouldn’t take it, Saori.”

“If it pays well, then I’d say you’d be a fool not to take it,” Rinji insisted, ignoring his mother’s commentary.

Saori opened her mouth to comment, but snapped it closed when her mother was faster.  “It’s her decision.  Let her make it on her own,” she chided.  “Besides, I heard through the grapevine that the rep from Paris—Levoure-san?—was very interested in you, Rinji.”

To Saori’s surprise, Rinji actually blushed.  “She—N-No, that’s not . . .” He cleared his throat.  “She was being polite; that’s all, so she asked me out to dinner, yes, but it was all on the up-and-up—and I already had plans with you two.”

Saori leaned toward her mother, but didn’t take her eyes off her brother.  “Is this Levoure-san pretty?”

Aiko giggled.  “Very . . . She’s very, very French, too, and they say that Paris is the city of romance, don’t they?”

“French kissing . . .”

“The adorable accent . . .”

“All right; let’s move on,” Rinji grouched.

“Romantic walks at night with the Eiffel Tower, illuminated in the background . . .”

Aiko giggled.  “Singing Disney songs in the middle of the Notre Dame Cathedral . . .”

“You two need to be separated,” Rinji grumbled.

Luckily for him, the waiter returned with the champagne and crystal glasses, which effectively silenced the giggling women—at least, for the moment.  He took his time, presenting the champagne and pouring glasses for each of them.  “Are you ready to order or would you like a little more time?”

“Steak,” Rinji replied.  The restaurant he’d chosen was a new one that specialized in Western fare, more French than Asian—something he had a great affinity for, ever since he’d discovered that they served whole, huge steaks instead of smaller cuts.  They even set the tables with standard knives and forks, so it was kind of a novelty, at least, in Saori’s estimation.  However, she couldn’t really complain about it, either, given that she, like her mother, tended to like the steaks, too.  “Medium rare for all of us, please, with spring potatoes.”

“Very good,” the waiter said, bowing slightly before he excused himself once more.

“A toast to Saori: may your new endeavors take you far, and may you always remember the path that leads you home,” Rinji said, raising a glass as the waiter walked away.   “ _Otsukaresama deshita!_ ”

The women responded in kind, lifting their glasses in response.  Saori wasn’t overly fond of champagne, but she drank it since Rinji had gone to the trouble of ordering it.  Even so, she couldn’t quite help the slight feeling that her brother was dismissing her own feelings that she may not take the job that was offered.  How was that a foregone conclusion? she wondered.

Rinji smiled, his silvery hair, like his mother’s, catching the ambient light, making the strands almost glow.  “Even if you don’t take that job, Saori-chan, I know you’ll be offered another one that might be more to your liking, and I must admit, if you did move to Morocco, I’d miss you terribly.”

“Would you?” she countered, her eyes sparkling with

 the teasing tone in her voice.  “You sounded like you wanted to be rid of me.”

He grunted, sipping his champagne.  “I did not,” he argued.  “I was trying to be encouraging, like a good nii-chan.”

She rolled her eyes.  “I’m not sure it’s the job for me,” she said, giving a small shrug.  “Something about it just doesn’t feel right . . .”

“If that’s so, then you shouldn’t accept,” Rinji went on, frowning as he considered the situation.  “Besides, oji-san seems to like having you work for him.”

“Maybe, but it isn’t like much thought goes into that,” Saori admitted.  “I just run errands.  It feels like an after-school kind of job . . .”

“You’re still helping him out quite a bit.  He’s said before that there just aren’t ever enough hours in the day, and I know that Sierra’s been saying lately that he’s had even less time since his old secretary quit to get married, so even if it doesn’t feel like much, it really is,” Aiko remarked.  “It’s even nicer for him, really, given that you’re family, so he can trust you with really sensitive information.”

She wasn’t sure if she bought into it.  To her, it sounded more like a pep talk from her mother and brother than anything else.  She stifled a sigh.  It wouldn’t be so bad, she supposed, if she felt as though she were really needed, but dropping off files?  Picking up dry cleaning?  Stopping at the market if Sierra forgot to pick up an ingredient for dinner?  No, it wasn’t important, at all . . .

“I told Seiji about your job offer earlier when he called,” Aiko went on, smiling at the waiter when he slipped a plate of food before her.  “He said to tell you congratulations, but I could tell from his voice that he wasn’t entirely pleased with the idea that you could be moving so far away.”

“Will he be home soon?”

A fleeting shadow passed over Aiko’s pretty features before she summoned a bright smile to cover it up.  “Apparently, the man they went to see wasn’t home, so they’re going to stay a little longer,” she said.

“Didn’t they have an appointment?  Who puts off Inutaisho Sesshoumaru?” she remarked, only half teasing.

Aiko laughed.  “Well, even then, sometimes things come up.  I’m sure they’ll handle it and be home as soon as they’re able.”

Saori wrinkled her nose as she cut into the fragrant steak, absently noting the way the juices glistened on the beautiful cut of beef.  “It seems rude to me,” she mumbled, lifting a bite to her lips.

“Contrary to popular belief, he isn’t kami,” Aiko laughed.  “Rinji, your father asked if you could take care of his meetings until he gets back.  He has one tomorrow with the rep from Denzien that he couldn’t reschedule.”

Rinji nodded.  “It’s not a problem.  I think they’re about ready to negotiate a contract.”

Tuning out the business talk that distracted her mother and brother, Saori concentrated on her food instead.

She’d spent a good couple hours today, trying to figure out a way to get a hold of Toga’s phone.  She’d considered asking him, straight out for Fai’s number, but she knew better.  Given their overall reactions to her antics in Russia, she highly doubted that anyone would be willing to hand that particular bit of information over to her.  It just figured; it really did.

In the end, she figured she’d just have to bide her time until she was able to get access to the phone.  She could be patient, even if she didn’t like the idea.  She had even considered, calling Zelig Cain to see if maybe he’d give her the number she wanted, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he’d be even less willing to hand it over, too, unless he hadn’t been apprized of the appropriation of the Asian tai-youkai—which she doubted.  Sometimes, it really stunk that her family was so close-knit . . .

‘ _Maybe if you called Gin-oba-chan—if you told her why you wanted it . . ._ ’

Biting her cheek, Saori fiddled with the food on her plate, her appetite conspicuously missing.  No, she couldn’t do that.  To put her feelings into words?  How could she do that without seeming even more naïve and stupid than she already did, especially when Saori herself wasn’t entirely sure what her real feelings were?  Even then, even if she could, that would put Gin in an awfully uncomfortable position, and Saori really couldn’t do that.

She heaved an inward sigh.  There really weren’t any options available to her at all, but maybe, if she was patient . . . Maybe . . .

‘ _Maybe.  And maybe I’d have better luck if I just ran away, back to Russia . . ._ ’

 

* * *

 

 

Tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for someone to answer the hulking door of the impressive Inutaisho mansion, Fai let out a deep breath, scowling at anything and everything in the near vicinity.

He wasn’t entirely sure that he’d get any help at all from Sesshoumaru—at least, not for what he wanted—but he was out of options, out of ideas, and pretty well fast approaching the end of his patience, too.

It was maddening, really.  For a family as prominent as theirs, one would think that someone would know where they lived, yet they didn’t.  Everywhere he’d asked, he’d gotten the same answer: no one knew.  It was entirely by luck that he’d managed to find this place.  Wandering around, he’d caught the vague yet slightly familiar scent of Sesshoumaru’s mate, and he’d trailed her here.  As for believing that Kagura would actually tell him what he wanted to know?  He rather doubted it.  Even so, he had to try.

The door opened, and he blinked at the waif-like woman who answered.  ‘ _A panda-youkai . . ._ ’  Dressed in a serviceable black outfit, she pushed a long strand of light brown hair behind her ear.

She greeted him in Japanese, and Fai slowly shook his head.

“Pardon?”

The woman didn’t recognize Russian, either, it seemed, and Fai gritted his teeth.

“May I help you?” she asked in heavily accented English.

“I’m looking for Sesshoumaru or Kagura,” he replied, thankful that the impasse was averted.  “I’m Fai Demyanov.”

She didn’t appear to recognize his name, but she nodded, stepping back to allow him to enter the home.  “I will fetch Kagura-sama,” she said.  “Please wait here.”

He watched her go before turning his attention to the bright and airy foyer.  He stood on the tile entryway, but didn’t step up onto the raised floor.  All things considered, he wasn’t entirely sure whether or not he ought to take off his shoes since he wasn’t sure exactly how he was going to be received.  He was saved from his own debate, however, when Kagura stepped out of the high archway.

She didn’t smile or look all that welcoming even when she offered him a shallow bow.  He returned the gesture, figuring that it was the polite thing to do, given the situation.

Kagura crossed her arms over her chest.  “Demyanov-san, what brings you here?”

Fai made no move to step forward, but he couldn’t help the grudging sense of gratitude that Kagura had remembered and that she had spoken in English.  He figured that was fair enough, too.  “I . . . I don’t mean to intrude.  I just wondered if I could ask you for . . . for Saori’s address.”

“Saori,” she repeated, her eyes narrowing slightly.  “Why?”

The entirely rehearsed sound of his words was not lost on him, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.  After all, he’d practiced what he wanted to say the entire trip over here . . . “I want to offer her a job, and since Toga wouldn’t give me her phone number, I thought that it’d be best to come here instead.”

“A job?” she echoed, raising an artful eyebrow.  “Would you care for a cup of tea?”

Blinking at the abrupt change of topics, Fai saw no other choice, but to go along with it, even if the beating around the bush feeling wasn’t one that sat well with him.  “That would be nice,” he replied instead, slipping off his shoes and stepping into the pair of slippers that were obviously there for guests.  Then he stepped up onto the raised floor and followed Kagura through the archway and into a very well-appointed living room.

She gestured at the sofa and pressed a button on the wall panel beside the doorway.  Then she said something in Japanese before taking her time, wandering over to sit in the plush chair across from him.  “You want to offer Saori a job?  What kind of job would that be?”

“I need someone to help me try to find placements for some of the orphans, and I thought that she would be the best choice.  She understands the need, obviously has some connections that might come in useful, and she knows the children, so she’d be very helpful when it comes to matching up families, should it come to that.”

Kagura leveled a very no-nonsense look at him.  It reminded him of one of his first tutors and the way she was able to see right through Fai’s excuses if he’d been late for his lessons for any reason.  “Is this some kind of ploy to get her back to Russia so that you can have her arrested again?”

Fai’s mouth dropped open for a full minute before he snapped it closed again.  He could feel the blood, flowing to his cheeks, but it had more to do with his rising temper than it did anything else.  “I assure you, that’s not my intention,” he grumbled.  “If that were the case, I wouldn’t have to lie.  I would have every right to demand that you turn her over to me.”

Kagura didn’t reply as the same woman who had answered the door slipped into the room with a tray of very delicate tea cups and a hand-painted, porcelain teapot.  She poured the drinks before bowing and backing out of the room once more, leaving Fai, scowling at Kagura, who didn’t seem impressed at all with the idea that she had just insulted him.  In fact, she was the very epitome of calm, serene, as she picked up a cup and handed it across the coffee table to him.  “So, you have no intention of punishing her further for what she did?”

“No,” Fai replied, struggling to keep his tone even, flat.  “That was never my intention.”

“If it was never your intention, then why did you have her arrested, in the first place?”

He was about to tell her that it really was none of her business, but he stopped himself.  Given that she was at least hearing him out, he figured he ought not to push fate.  Still, he had to take a deep breath before he dared to try to answer.  Somehow, he had the feeling that whatever he said now would ultimately decide, whether or not he would get Saori’s address . . . “I . . . I was leaving the orphanage,” he heard himself saying, almost as though he had no control over his own words.  “I realized that she was leaving, too—soon, anyway—and that I wouldn’t see her again if she did, and I . . .”

“And it was better to arrest her than to ask her to . . . stay . . .?”

He detected the hint of censure in Kagura’s voice, and he grimaced inwardly.  “I’ve never met anyone like her before,” he admitted.  “I . . . I don’t know what it is, to be honest.  I just know . . . I know I’ll never meet anyone like her again—and I do need . . . help . . . with the children . . .”

Kagura sat back, very slowly sipping her tea, her magenta eyes locked on his face as she considered what he’d said.  It seemed to Fai that she took an inordinately long time in answering, and when she finally spoke again, she seemed almost . . . amused . . .? “You really hate asking anyone for help, don’t you, Demyanov-san?”

“Fai’s fine, and . . . and yes, I do.”

Kagura chuckled.  “Yet you’re willing to swallow your pride to ask her to work for you?”

“Yes.”

Kagura nodded slowly—very slowly.  “And did you enjoy kissing my granddaughter?”

He blinked, unable to staunch the sudden explosion of heat in his cheeks at the abrupt reminder.  “She . . . She told you that . . .?” he blurted before he could stop himself.

Kagura laughed.  “Actually, no, but she told her mother, and her mother told me.  Did you kiss my granddaughter?”

“We—I—She—Y-Yes,” he muttered.  Somehow, he couldn’t quite bring himself to tell this woman—Saori’s grandmother—that Saori was the one who had initiated it.  It almost felt like doing so would be akin to dishonoring her, although he wasn’t sure why he would think that.  “Yes, I did.”

“So, she didn’t kiss you.  I could have sworn that she told Aiko that she did the kissing . . .”

It occurred very slowly to him that maybe she was kidding.  Even so, he didn’t really know her well enough to think that it was a definite thing.  He shrugged.  “Does it matter?”

“And you didn’t mind it—might have even _liked_ it?”

Fai sighed.  “I . . . I _might_ have,” he grumbled.

No doubt about it, the woman was very obviously amused beyond all reason, and Fai made a face.  “She was already offered a job,” Kagura said instead, opting not to tease Fai further, which was fine with him.  “Morocco.”

“She only said she had an interview,” Fai said, frowning at the cup of tea in his hands.  “They offered her a job that fast?”

“How would you know that?” Kagura parried.  “She only found out about the interview a few days ago.”

Fai blinked, lifting his gaze to meet hers for a moment before offering her a little shrug and dropping his eyes to the cup once more.  “In a dream,” he said almost absently.  “She was there.  She told me.”

“In a dream,” Kagura repeated.  “Is that right?”

He nodded, only half-listening.  She was offered that job?  Of course, she would be.  She was entirely capable, and surely the person who had conducted the interview had sensed just what kind of woman she really was.  But Morocco?  Why did the thought of her taking that job make him want to crush something—like the cup in his hands?

Carefully setting the cup back on the tray before he gave into the urge to maim it, he glanced up, only to do a double take when he noticed that Kagura was writing something in a very fine leather-bound journal of sorts.

She tore the page out and leaned forward to hand it to him, and he slowly reached out to take it.  “That’s her address,” Kagura said.  “However, I think I should warn you that her father’s out of town, so that means that her brother is staying there while he’s away, and her brother has a tendency to be just as overprotective as her father is.  If you show up on their doorstep, there’s a good chance that Rinji might well take exception to your presence.”

Fai nodded.  That just figured, didn’t it?  So close, and yet, unless he wanted to beg an altercation with her beloved brother, how in the world was he going to get to talk to her?

Kagura chuckled again, the sound of it, rich and warm.  “You strike me as the resourceful type.  I think you can figure it out.”

Scowling as he read over the address on the paper, committed it to memory, Fai let out a deep breath.  Resourceful?  He’d have to be, wouldn’t he?  Somehow, he had the feeling that it wasn’t going to be nearly as simple as he’d like . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Otsukaresama deshita_** _: Literally, “you’re tired”, which is one of the best compliments you can give someone in Japan since they value hard work and putting in much effort.  That aside, in this case, he uses it instead of a less formal, “kanpai”, which tends to be used in a less formal setting or when drinking beer or sake.  Since they’re having champagne in the setting of a rather fine restaurant, the more formal, “otsukaresama deshita,” is definitely appropriate_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Goldeninugoddess ——— xSerenityx020 ——— Silent Reader
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— Monsterkittie
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from** **Fai**_ :  
>  _How am I going to get to her_ …?


	27. 026: Clandestine

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_26_** ~~  
~ ** _Clandestine_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori closed the door with a sigh, tucking her hair behind her ear as she sat down on the raised floor to remove her shoes and pull on the house slippers.  She’d just finished and stood up when Aiko stepped inside.  “Well, I guess it’s just us tonight,” she said, kicking off her shoes and steadying herself on the short railing to aide her as she stepped into her own house shoes.  “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Um, whatever you want to do,” she agreed.  “Where’s nii-chan?”

Grabbing the stack of mail off the table nearby, Aiko’s voice was a little distracted when she answered.  “Mikio called.  He said he had a few questions about a couple of contracts he’s working on, and since otou-san is out of town, Rinji went over there to talk him through them.”

Saori frowned.  “Mikio-san?  But he never has problems with any of the contracts.”

Catching her hair in one hand and pulling it over her shoulder, Aiko shrugged.  “Oh, he does from time to time, especially when they have special addendums.  I’m sure it’s all fine,” she replied, flipping through the small stack of envelopes in her hand.  “Hmm, the Todai Initiative is holding another gala for their patrons . . .”

“Which means they want more donations for the university,” Saori concluded.

Aiko laughed.  “That almost sounded cynical,” she pointed out, despite the amused smile on her face.  “Hmm, looks like it’s the same weekend as the Intelliface symposium in Berlin, so . . .”

“That sounds boring,” Saori mused.

Aiko winked at her.  “Your father’s the keynote speaker, and I, for one, enjoy watching him up there, delivering his words of wisdom.”

Saori wrinkled her nose.  “Are you going to stand in the back and flash him again?”

Aiko giggled, but she didn’t deny it, either.  “It was only the one time, and I was upstairs in a private box with no one else around to see it.”

Uttering a snort, Saori slowly shook her head.  “Kaa-chan?”

“Hmm?”

Following her mother into the living room, Saori smiled.  “When’s the last time you went on a proper vacation?”

Aiko set the rest of the mail on the coffee table as she sat down.  “We go on vacations,” she insisted.  “We always stay a few extra days when we travel to conferences and such so that we can enjoy the sights and all that.”

“Spending a few extra days during a business trip isn’t a vacation,” Saori pointed out, settling onto the sofa beside her mother.  “You’re both workaholics.  You’re as bad as Fai-sama.”

“Is that right?  What do you mean?”

Flipping through the channels with the remote control, Saori made a face.  “He said he’s never been on vacation since he became tai-youkai.  I mean, I can understand that he’s busy—oji-chan is, too—but it always seems like he tries to do everything by himself, and Asia’s huge . . . It just feels like a lot.”

“You talked to him quite a bit, didn’t you?  Go to know him pretty well?”

She shrugged.  “Not really.  He’s . . . He’s kind of hard to read sometimes, sort of like ojii-chan . . .”

“-Chan?  I take it you’re done being irritated with him, then?”

“I wasn’t _irritated_ with him,” she insisted.  “I just think that they could have taken the time to ask instead of blasting down Fai-sama’s door . . .”

“At least it was an inside door,” Aiko said.  Saori didn’t have to look at her mother to hear the hint of amusement in her tone.

Saori heaved a sigh.  “It’s not nearly as funny as you seem to think.  Ji-chan just blasted the office doors open—they exploded— _exploded_ . . .”

“They were worried about you.  You really can’t blame them for that.”

“And they say I have serious impulse control problems,” she grumbled.

“They love you, Saori.”

For some reason, her mother’s ability to discount something that truly bothered her about the entire situation bothered her, even though she wouldn’t ever really say that to her.  Sure, she could understand their concerns, but to go in like that?  Fai would have given them answers, had they just stopped long enough to talk to him, but no, handled like that?  She grimaced.  Even if he was interested in her on some level, and that was a huge, ‘if’, that interest would have died the very second her much-loved ji-chan knocked in his office doors . . .

A sudden and bone-deep weariness crashed over her, the likes of which she’d never felt before.  Letting out a deep breath, she rubbed her forehead, dropping the remote onto the coffee table so that she could use both hands.  It didn’t do any good.

Saori made a face, but nodded.  “I’m going up to bed,” she said, pushing herself to her feet.  “I’m just . . . just tired, I guess . . .”

“Okay,” Aiko agreed, frowning in concern as she watched her daughter shuffle toward the doorway.  “ _Oyasumi nasai_.”

“ _Oyasumi_ ,” Saori replied.

It was mental exhaustion, she told herself as she headed up the stairs in the foyer.  Weeks of asking herself questions, of reliving things in her head, over and over, wondering if there was anything she could have done differently to have ended up in a wholly different place . . . If she’d had a single thought once, she’d rehashed it over and over again, and nothing really led her to any different conclusions.

The unsettled feeling that she couldn’t shake had only grown exponentially, and that was bad enough.  It was almost enough to drive her crazy, and she couldn’t help but think that something really had to give.  The problem was, she wasn’t entirely sure, what . . .

Sighing as she closed her bedroom door, as she slipped out of the midnight blue dress and hung it back in the closet, she tugged an oversized tee-shirt over her head—she’d commandeered it from her second-cousin, Bas’s suitcase when he was visiting a few years ago.  He was easily the biggest man she knew, and she’d figured that the shirt would be extra comfortable, which it was.  She might not have tried it had his mate, Sydnie been with him.  She hadn’t come along that time since she was working a case back home and thought that she was close to cracking it.  Come to think of it, Saori still wasn’t sure if Sydnie knew about the tee-shirt, and, given the cat-youkai’s penchant for unpleasant jealously, she didn’t think that it was something that she would ever actually tell Sydnie . . .

It didn’t take long for her to brush her teeth and wash her face—something she tended to do before bed or she just wouldn’t be able to sleep—before opening the balcony door, just enough to allow some fresh air in.  Seiji didn’t like her habit of doing that, having said many times that if someone wanted to break in, the first thing they’d do was to look for open windows.  Saori, however, figured that anyone who was dumb enough to do something like that would find out soon enough, just what a bad idea that really was.

Lingering in the doorway, she leaned against the frame, tilting her head to the side as she gazed up at the hazy half-moon that hung low in the skies.  The majesty of it was diminished in the glow of the city, and only a handful of stars were visible at all.  It was something she’d loved about Russia—the natural beauty of it all, especially the night skies.  She remembered seeing the vibrance of stars when they visited Maine in the United States a few times, but, either her memory had faded over time, which was entirely possible, or the stars in the Russian night skies were just that much brighter.  It was entirely possible that they might have been, simply because Russia, as a whole, was a lot less populated than the United States were, even Maine.

‘ _Do you think that Fai-sama is looking at the moon right now, too?_ ’

Her youkai sighed.  ‘ _Maybe.  I . . . I hope so . . ._ ’

Staring up at the moon, she almost smiled as the light breeze stirred her bangs, her hair brushing against her cheeks.  The beauty was marred only by the lingering wistfulness that dug deep into her soul, a sense of longing, of urgency, of hopelessness that she didn’t know what to do with.

 

* * *

 

 

Fai sat in the rented car, staring out the window at the quiet house after checking the address for the hundredth time since he’d found it about an hour ago.  His first thought was to march right up to the door and to demand to see Saori, but that idea was quashed fast enough with the memory of the warning that Kagura had given him, that Saori’s older and very overprotective brother was likely to be there, too.

It wasn’t that he was afraid of him, of course, but even he had to admit that starting a fight with any of her family members really wasn’t a wise thing to do in the given situation.

Too bad he had a feeling that the vast majority of her family was already prepared to write him off as a villain, which was entirely unfair, really, given that not one of them had been properly introduced to him, in the first place.  Then again . . .

‘ _Does it matter, what her family thinks of you?_ ’

Scowling at the question presented by his youkai-voice, Fai snorted.  Loudly.  ‘ _I’d really rather that they don’t hate me, if that’s what you mean._ ’

‘ _And since when do you care, how anyone else feels about you?_ ’

‘ _I don’t care,’_ he grumbled.  ‘ _But it’s her family, and I’m pretty sure that_ she _might well care if they like me or not._ ’

‘ _Well, why do you care if your_ employee’s _family likes you or not?  That’s just weird, if you ask me.  A mate, on the other hand . . ._ ’

He snorted again.  ‘ _You’re jumping the gun there, just a little, don’t you think?_ ’

‘ _Do you think so?  I mean, if you want to discuss it, then Yerik seems to think that she’s your mate, too . . ._ ’

‘ _Yerik was just trying to annoy me._ ’

‘ _All right; all right, but if that’s the case, then tell me why we bothered to fly all the way over here, just to offer her a job that her family probably won’t let her take, in the first place—insane lot of overbearing ruffians that they are . . ._ ’

‘ _. . . Are you going to tell her that her family is a bunch of overbearing ruffians?_ ’

His youkai thought it over.  ‘ _I might._ ’

Fai rolled his eyes.  ‘ _Yeah, because that’ll go over like a lead balloon . . ._ ’

His youkai grunted.  ‘ _And why are we just sitting here, waiting?_ ’

Scooting down in his seat just enough to make himself a little more comfortable, Fai shrugged.  ‘ _I’m waiting till everyone goes to bed,_ ’ he explained.

Even as he thought that, the light in the living room suddenly turned off.  The action set off a curious kind of flutter, deep in his belly, and Fai sat up straight.  Common sense told him to wait just a little longer, but his impatience was wearing him down.  Staring hard at the digital clock on the car’s dashboard, he willed the minutes to pass.  It took forever.

Two minutes later, a bedroom light on the upstairs floor turned on—a softer, rather ambient light that irritated him, just the same.  He tried to tell himself that a few more minutes was fine, that it wouldn’t matter.  It wasn’t much in the way of consolation.

Ten minutes later, Fai was ready to tear something to shreds.  Trying to ignore the voice that kept reminding him that he was finally going to get to her, he dug his claws into the armrest, realizing that the rental car agency was going to charge him for it, and yet, not really caring much, either.

It took another five minutes before the upstairs light finally shut off.  Satisfied that everyone in the house was in bed for the night, Fai sighed.  He wasn’t sure how long it would take before the occupant of that bedroom fell asleep, but he figured that another fifteen minutes might do the trick.

Those fifteen minutes felt like an eternity, and when Fai finally got out of the car, he paused for a minute as he examined the house before approaching it.  The twenty-foot wall wasn’t a concern unless it had security cameras.  He didn’t think there were any, aside from the one over the wide iron gate, so that was a plus.  If luck was with him, he’d be able to find a cracked window or door—or her room where he could hopefully get her attention without waking up anyone else in the house . . .

‘ _And what are we going to do?  Climb over the wall, and then what?_ ’

‘ _I’m not climbing anything,_ ’ he countered absently.  ‘ _Be quiet.  I need to concentrate._ ’

Which was true enough.  Stepping across the road, careful to hide under the cover of the deep shadows cast by the streetlamps, Fai closed his eyes, focused his youki—it was tougher since he’d only learned how to do this a few years ago, and it was taxing, even on his best days.  It was the strangest sensation that coursed through him as he felt his body dissolve, as the concentration of his youki changed the way he could perceive things.

It was a far more instinctive, intuitive.  It was also harder to form cognizant thought.  Led more by instinct than logical cognition, he zoomed up and around the house, searching for an open window, anything he could use to infiltrate the structure.

He found a door that stood ajar, and as he solidified his body once more, he blinked as the scent of her filled his nostrils, as the rich and vibrant stroke of her youki reached him where he stood.  He was on a small balcony outside an open door—Saori’s bedroom.  From where he stood, he could tell that she was sleeping by the rhythmic pulse of her youki, and he closed his eyes, just for a moment, allowed himself to be completely lost in her, drawing from her, a level of calm that he hadn’t felt in far too long—not since she’d been yanked out of his life . . .

He slipped into her room, careful not to make a sound, noting, even in the weary light that wasn’t quite black, that the room held her very aura.  Pausing beside her bed, he frowned down at her.  Hair fanned out over the pristine white pillow, her body hidden under the cover of a thick duvet, she breathed evenly, softly.  Fingers trembling, he reached out, let his fingertips linger on her cheek, brow furrowing even more as a sudden and intense swelling in his chest made it difficult to breathe.

She turned her face toward her hand though she didn’t stir otherwise, a soft sigh—almost a breath—misting over his fingers as reluctantly pulled away.  “Saori,” he said, his voice barely audible, yet echoing in his ears like the crack of gunfire.  “Saori . . . Wake up . . .”

She groaned softly, but didn’t stir.

He made a face.  “Saori.”

Nothing.

Dragging his hands over his face, Fai shook stifled the urge to growl.  Here he was, after going through so much trouble, just to find her, and she didn’t even have the decency to wake up?  “Hm,” he snorted quietly, carefully kneeling on the edge of the bed.  “Saori,” he said once more, leaning down, this time, speaking into her ear.

She awoke with a loud gasp, her fist flying out wildly, as though to warn him off.  He didn’t lean away quickly enough, and he grunted when that fist connected with his temple, unable to steady himself as he crashed off of the bed and onto the floor with a ridiculously loud, ‘thump’.  “Damn,” he groaned, wincing at the pain that exploded in the back of his skull more than the paltry smack she’d dealt him.

“Oh, kami!” she gasped, rising on her hands and knees, peering over the side of the bed at the man, laying on the floor.  “F-F-F-Fai-sama?” she squeaked.

“Assault?  That’s your newest thing?” he growled, pushing himself up, rubbing the back of his head to dispel the pain.  “I think I prefer kidnapping.”

She quite literally flung herself off the bed, straight into his lap.  He wasn’t prepared for it, and, with a slightly louder groan when his head hit the floor for the second time in as many minutes, he let his arms fall to the sides and gave up for the moment.

“Sorry!  I’m so sorry!” she blurted, her panic rising thick in the air.

Fai winced.  Considering what happened the last time she’d panicked, he figured he’d do better to get her calmed down as quickly as possible instead.  “It’s fine.  I’m fine,” he told her.  It was only a slight lie since he knew well enough that he’d be fine by the morning.  “Really, it’s okay . . .”

“I hurt you,” she whimpered, and he grimaced again when he smelled the salt of her tears.

“Don’t cry,” he said a little more gruffly than he’d intended.  “Saori, I—”

“Saori!  What—?  Oh . . . Oh, _my_ . . .”

Blinking fast when the bright overhead light flipped on moments after the door crashed open, as a silver haired inu-youkai woman rushed into the room.

Saori blinked and shot the woman a quick glance before scrambling off of Fai.  She said something in rapid Japanese that Fai couldn’t hope to understand, but the woman in the doorway seemed to calm just a little, and she nodded before peering past Saori at Fai, who was still sprawled on the floor.  “Demyanov-sama?” she said, though her tone held more question than statement.

Fai heaved a sigh and pushed himself to his feet, concentrating on not swaying since he felt a little dizzy, all things considered.  “ _H-Hajimemashite_ ,” he managed, exhausting his grasp on the Japanese language in that one word.

Saori shot him an apologetic sort of look.  “Fai-sama, this is my mother, Senkuro Aiko.  Kaa-chan, this is Fai-sama, the Asian tai-youkai.”  She’d spoken in English, which, he supposed, was for her mother’s benefit since he knew well enough that she was quite fluent in Russian.

“Pleased to met you, Demyanov-sama,” Aiko said, bowing politely as she tightened the belt of her pink silk robe.

Fai sighed.  “Fai’s fine,” he told her.  “I’m, uh . . . I’m sorry for the intrusion . . .”

She nodded slowly as she eyed him for a long moment before her gaze shifted to the open balcony door.  “Can I ask why you’re here?”

“I . . . I wanted to offer Saori a job, working with me to find placement for as many of the orphans as we can,” he blurted, painfully aware of just how ridiculous that sounded, given the situation.

He didn’t dare look at Saori, but he gritted his teeth when he felt the turbulence that had suddenly spiked in her youki.

“And you couldn’t do that in the bright light of day?” Aiko persisted.

“I called Toga and asked for her phone number,” he went on.  “He wouldn’t give it to me, so I didn’t think that anyone would allow her to see me.”

“Nii-chan didn’t mention that to me,” Aiko admitted.  “They’re afraid that you’ll show up here to arrest my daughter again.  But you aren’t doing that, are you?  And you’re not kidnapping her, are you?  What’s that phrase?  Tit for tat?”

“Uh, no,” he insisted.  “No, that wasn’t my intention . . .”

Aiko nodded slowly.   Then she sighed.  “Well, you two should discuss this job offer, I think.  I’m going to make some tea.  Are you hungry, Demyanov-sama?”

He opened his mouth to decline her offer, but blushed when his stomach rumbled loudly, attesting to the idea that he hadn’t actually eaten anything since leaving Russia.

Aiko finally smiled and offered him another bow.  “I’ll see what I can find.  Saori?  Why don’t you show Demyanov-sama down to the kitchen?”

The silence that fell seemed thick and heavy.  Saori shuffled over, retrieving a thin, powder blue terrycloth robe out of her closet.  He hadn’t noticed before what she was—or wasn’t—wearing.  As she tied the robe closed over the long tee-shirt, he tried not to stare at the long expanse of her legs that were so prettily presented.

“I . . . I missed you,” he heard himself saying.

She bit her lip, stubbornly refused to look at him.  “You wanted to offer me a job?” she asked, ignoring what he’d said.

“Yes, but—”

“I-I-I was offered a job already,” she said, averting her eyes, staring at the floor as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“That one in Morocco, right . . . but you’re not going to take it, are you?”

She blinked and slowly lifted her gaze, eyes darkening slightly as a sense of confusion settled over her.  “How do you know about that?”

He snorted, rubbing the back of his head, absently wondering if he didn’t have some sort of mild concussion . . . “You told me about the interview,” he mumbled in a rather distracted kind of way.

“I . . . I didn’t,” she countered quietly.

“You did,” he argued.  “When I saw you that night . . .”

He heard her sharply indrawn breath, but didn’t think much of it until she spoke again.  “But . . . that was just a dream, wasn’t it?”

He sighed, draping his hands on his hips as he stared at her.  “It didn’t feel real to you?”

“It did . . . I . . .”

Shaking his head, he let out a deep breath.  “It was the only decent night’s sleep I’ve gotten since . . .”

“R-Really?”

He smiled just a little at her airy, breathless tone.  “Yeah,” he admitted.

“Me, too . . .”

Fai snorted.  “Oh, yeah?  Seemed like you were sleeping pretty well just now.”

She grimaced.  “I’m really sorry about that,” she insisted.

He rolled his eyes but chuckled.  “It’s okay,” he assured her again.  “I’m just . . . I’m glad to see you again.”

She giggled.  “I . . . I want the job,” she said.

“We haven’t discussed your pay,” he reminded her.

She shook her head, her smile growing brighter with every passing moment, illuminating her eyes, adding a pinkness to her cheeks.  “That’s okay,” she told him.  “I . . . I know you’ll be fair.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Oyasumi (nasai)_** _: Good night.  ‘Nasai’ is more formal_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Goldeninugoddess ——— Silent Reader ——— xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Bonnie ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— Amanda Gauger ——— Minzee
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _So, I can add assault to my crimes_ …?


	28. 027: Sidetracked

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_27_** ~~  
~ ** _Sidetracked_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“I apologize for only being able to meet you this way, but I have a number of my men coming in for a meeting later today, so I’m a bit busier than usual,” Jude Covington said, foregoing a proper greeting, as he slipped into an open seat at the small table in the quiet bistro that overlooked Sydney Harbour.  Light green eyes flicking coolly over the already seated couple, he managed a tepid sort of smile that looked entirely perfunctory, flipping the long, low hanging, auburn ponytail over his shoulder as though it was little more than a nuisance to him.

Fai had already taken the liberty of ordering a rather vast assortment of breakfast platters, ranging from fruits and vegetables to eggs and various breakfast meats and breads.  Saori was busy, munching on a very tasty sausage link while Fai was simply drinking a cup of very strong coffee.

“It’s fine,” he said over the rim of the fine china cup.  “On the contrary, I apologize for the short notice.”

Jude waved off Fai’s apology, sparing a moment to pin Saori with a very candid look.  “Well, I know you,” he said to Fai, without taking his eyes off Saori, “but I can’t say that I know who you are.”

Saori blushed and quickly ducked her head as she hurriedly tried to swallow a bite of sausage.  “I’m sorry,” she said, holding her napkin before her mouth.  “I’m Saori Senkuro.”

“Senkuro,” he repeated thoughtfully.  “That name . . . Oh!  Seiji’s daughter?”

She nodded and lowered the napkin.  “Yes.”

“The reason I wished to meet with you is because I wondered if you have people in your jurisdiction who would be interested in adopting some of our orphans,” Fai cut in.  “Saori has better knowledge of our children and is helping me with their placements.  In fact, it would be better if you think of anyone, that you contact her.  She used to work at the orphanage, so she has a better grasp on their various situations.”

“How old are they?”

“There’s a wide range of ages,” Saori replied.  “I understand that the older children might prove harder to place, but the younger ones would do very well, even though it may take a little patience while they learn new customs and a new language.”

“When you say, ‘younger’, I will assume we aren’t talking about infants,” Jude said.

“We do have a few that are under four years of age, a number of them are between five and twelve, and then, of course, older children, too,” she told him.

“Russian children,” Jude remarked.  “We do have a few families who are looking to adopt, but I cannot say without looking into it if they’d be willing to accept older children.  I’ll be happy to have one of my people ask around, see if anyone is interested.  I know of one family who will likely be agreeable to taking even an older child—maybe not a teenager—but one in primary school.  I’ll be honest with you.  This couple consists of two gay men, so you can understand why they cannot simply have children of their own.”

“I have no issues with that, providing they are able to adequately care for the child, financially speaking,” Fai replied.

“Good, then,” Jude said.  “They may actually be interested in siblings, if you have anything like that.”

“I’ll give you my number,” Saori said.  “I’ll be more than happy to answer any questions regarding the children.  The older children have a basic grasp of common English, but the younger ones don’t.  However, I think that if we ask them to, the caretakers they’re currently with could work with them all on their English skills to make any transition a little easier.”

“Then I shall have my man get in touch with you,” he replied, slipping the business card that Saori had given to him into his pocket.  Then he turned his attention back to Fai once more.  “Will you be here long?”

Saori glanced at Fai, who gave nothing away in his unaffected demeanor.  “A few days,” he allowed.  “Saori has never been here, so I thought it would be nice for her to take in the city.”

Jude smiled.  “Well, I hope you won’t be disappointed,” he told her amiably.  “Where are you staying?”

“The Sydney Harbor Imperial,” he said.  “Suite 619.”

Jude jotted that down information with a very expensive looking ball-point pen before stowing the paper napkin and pen into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.  “And how are matters in Asia?” he asked, reaching for the coffee carafe.

“Everything’s fine,” Fai intoned.  For the vaguest moment, Saori thought that she’d seen a flicker of irritation in Fai’s expression, but it was gone almost instantly, leaving her wondering if she hadn’t imagined it.

If Jude had noticed anything amiss, he didn’t remark upon it, casually sipping his coffee as his gaze shifted over the café and back again.  “Very good.  I met your brother a couple years ago—Yerik.  How’s he?”

“He’s fine.  He’s opted to become a hunter, but you knew that already, didn’t you?”

Jude chuckled.  “I assure you, he was never in any danger.  The hunter he was with is very, very capable.  I never would have allowed it if he weren’t the very best.”

Fai didn’t look pacified.  “That’s very conscientious of you,” he muttered dryly.

“He was determined to do it, consent or not.  It was the least I could do, to make sure that he was with someone who was quite capable of keeping him safe,” Jude replied.  He didn’t laugh, but he did still look rather amused.

“Then I appreciate your concern,” Fai said.

Setting his cup aside with a soft clink, Jude stood, reached over to shake Fai’s hand, and then, Saori’s.  “I hate to cut this so short, but I really must be going.  Was there anything else I could do for you?”

For some reason, Jude’s question rankled him.  If he were to stop to think about it, he supposed that it might well just have to do with the idea that he hated to ask anyone for anything, to begin with.  “No.  I’m only here on behalf of the children.”

Jude nodded.  “Again, my sincerest apologies.  Please, do enjoy your time here, and if there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.  I’ve enjoyed meeting you, Ms. Senkuro.  Give my regards to your family.”

They watched Jude walk away, and Saori let out a deep breath.  “That went well,” she remarked, picking at her sausage as she frowned at the almost foreboding expression on Fai’s face.  “Are you okay?”

He blinked, then shot her a quick glance.  “I’m fine,” he replied, reaching for the carafe of coffee.  “I could have done this over the telephone, though.  It would have been much less of a hassle.”

Saori nodded.  True enough, she figured, but after her mother’s warning . . .

“ _Here you go . . . It’s nothing fancy, but our cook went home hours ago . . .” Aiko said as she set a plate with a few onigiri on the kitchen table in front of the Asian tai-youkai when Saori had brought him down to the kitchen_.

“ _This is fine,” Fai assured her.  “Thank you_.”

 _She poured tea and sat down while Saori fidgeted beside her.  “So, did the two of you discuss Fai-sama’s job offer?_ ”

“ _I accepted it,” Saori replied.  Glancing at her mother’s face, she wasn’t surprised to see the gentle little smile that quirked her lips_.

“ _I thought as much,” Aiko admitted.  “In that case, I should warn you both: otou-san and Seiji are both in Russia right now.  It seemed that they wanted to speak with you, Fai-sama.  They wished for reassurance that you have no intention of trying to punish Saori further for her. . . lapse in judgement_.”

“ _That’s an interesting way to put a nice spin on someone appropriating someone else,” Fai muttered, biting into one of the rice balls_.

 _Aiko cleared her throat, but for a moment, Saori had to wonder how close her mother was to laughing outright.  “Anyway, if you want to avoid an unpleasant encounter—I assume that Saori will be leaving with you—then you may want to stay away from your home for a few days,” she went on.  “I would imagine that if you show up with my daughter in tow before you manage to speak with them about it, they might well jump to conclusions_.”

“ _Does your entire family have these impulse control issues?” he parried_.

 _Aiko laughed.  “Only the men—and Saori, at times_.”

 _Saori made a face_.

 _Aiko’s amusement died quickly enough, only to be replaced by a thoughtful frown.  “I really hate to rush you off, but I’m not entirely sure how long Rinji will be gone, and if you wish to avoid that unpleasant confrontation, then you’d best get going soon_.”

“ _Oh,” Saori gasped, understanding exactly what her mother meant as she shot to her feet.  “I should change then_ . . .”

 _Aiko stood up, too.  “I’ll help her pack her things,” she told Fai while Saori hurried out of the kitchen.  “It won’t take long . . . Fai-sama_ . . .”

Blinking away the lingering memory, Saori smiled.  “I know that it shouldn’t be, but it’s kind of exciting,” she said.  “Have you been here before?”

“Not in a long time.  I was too young to remember much of it.  My father had to come here to speak with Jude about some trade business, so he brought my mother and me along,” he replied.  “Your mother said she would text and let you know when we can go back to Russia, right?”

She nodded.  “Won’t Vasili tell them that you’re going to be out of town for a few days?”

Fai shrugged.  “He would have if I had told him.  As it was, I didn’t really tell him much of anything before I left to go to Tokyo.”

She slowly shook her head.  “That poor man is going to have a heart attack or something if you don’t stop disappearing on him, don’t you think?”

Fai shrugged it off.  “He’ll be fine.  I was planning on calling him later, having him fax any urgent business to me here since we’ll be staying a few days.  I’ll just tell him to let your grandfather know that I’m here on business, and that should be that.”

She nodded, but her mood turned a little pensive.  “I doubt that’ll be necessary, actually,” she admitted.  “In fact, I’m pretty sure that they’ll be heading back to Tokyo just as soon as nii-chan realizes that I’m gone . . .”

“Sounds like, ‘nii-chan’ needs a hobby,” Fai said as he lifted his cup of coffee to his lips.

Saori giggled.  “He’s always been a little overprotective,” she mused with a little bounce of her shoulders.  “It can’t be helped, I guess.  He’s a lot older than me, so I guess he’s always thought of me as more of a child than an adult.”

“Hm, well, your mother is nice enough.  So is your grandmother, come to think of it . . .”

“Obaa-chan?  When did you . . .?”

He set the coffee cup down and leaned forward, arms cross on the table.  “She gave me your address,” he told her.

Saori blinked, trying to digest the idea that her grandmother really had done such a thing.  Then again, maybe it wasn’t that surprising.  Kagura had always been a little slower to pass judgment, a little more willing to hear both sides of a story before she made up her mind, and, more often than not, she tended to be good at reading between the lines, in finding the truth that lie somewhere in between the two extremes . . .

“Are you done here?” he asked, lifting hand to gesture at the array of food.

“Did you have something else you wanted to do?” she challenged, grabbing a pancake and slowly nibbling off of it without bothering to cut it up or to put any syrup or fruit on it.

He smiled just a little, eyes brightening as he watched her antics.  “I thought I might as well take you sightseeing or something,” he replied.  “I mean, there’s not much else we can do at the moment, is there?”

She raised her eyebrows and let the pancake fall onto her plate.  “Sightseeing?  That sounds like fun!”  Hopping up out of her chair, she giggled.

Fai shook his head as he got to his feet, but he still retained the amused light in his gaze.  “All right, but I think it’s fair to warn you: I’m not very good at the whole, ‘tourist’ thing.”

Saori grabbed his hand and tugged him through the bistro.  “It’s not that hard,” she assured him.  “You just stop whenever you see something you want to explore, keep your eyes open for signs that say, ‘tour’, eat ridiculous amounts of strange street food, and take lots of silly snapshots of everything.”

“That sounds . . . awful, actually,” he grumbled but followed her out onto the sidewalk, lifting a hand to shield his eyes for a few minutes while they adjusted to the bright daylight.

She giggled again, tugging on his hand to get him moving once more.  “Come on, Fai-sama.  Let’s see what kind of trouble we can find to get into here.”

His answer was a very loud groan, but he let her lead the way.

 

* * *

 

 

Fai smiled slightly as he leaned on the railing, watching as Saori played with some children. They were playing a sort of kid-hacked version of kickball-meets-soccer in a small park that they had been wandering through.  One of the children had accidentally sent the ball, flying at them, and Saori had intercepted it, kicking it back in a flash of movement that was enough to impress the children into asking her to join them, and, while they’d asked Fai to join, too, he’d opted to watch, instead.  Somewhere during the game, they’d decided that trees on either side of their playing field were goals, and, from what he could tell, Saori’s team was winning.  Maybe.  Well, to be fair, he wasn’t entirely sure how they were keeping score, but he figured that the fun they were having overshadowed the need to break it down into winning or losing.

Saori had pulled her hair up into a quick but messy bun, secured in place by a couple of twigs she’d found.  It wasn’t staying in place well, though, as tendrils of her smoky hair flew around her, and she didn’t seem to care at all—something Fai found entirely endearing.

They’d spend the majority of the day, wandering wherever they just happened to go, admiring the eclectic array of varying architecture that seemed to comprise the majority of cityscape.  While it was easy to see the towering skyscrapers, it was an almost whimsical of juxtaposition of old versus new.  From classical design to Romanesque, Edwardian to Italiante to the more cutting edge and modern structure, the city was such an interesting mix, much like the denizens of Sydney itself.

Saori had made good on her word and had managed to snap more pictures of him in one day so far than had been taken of him over the course of the last ten-plus-years since he’d become tai-youkai despite his protests, and he, of course, had retaliated in kind, capturing a ridiculous number of images of her on his own phone.  Then she had decided to ask a few perfect strangers to capture a few pictures of the both of them, and he was sure that it was simply Saori’s endearing nature that had gained their cooperation in the end . . .

He’d even sent a couple of the images to her mother and grandmother—the two women who had helped him find and spirit her away—even as Aiko’s words still echoed in his ears: words that he didn’t think he’d ever forget . . .

 _Just after Saori had sped off to pack her bag, Aiko had lingered, had smiled at him, waiting till her daughter was out of earshot before she spoke in a quiet tone.  “Fai-sama . . . You told her you wanted her to work for you, and she accepted your offer.  Is that all there is to it?  Is that the only reason you would go to the trouble of sneaking in here in the middle of the night?_ ”

 _Fai wasn’t entirely sure, how to answer that.  Staring at her mother, however, he felt the same thing that he’d felt when he’d talked to Kagura earlier_.

“ _I apologize if it feels like I’m putting you on the spot.  That’s not my intention, at all,” she went on when he didn’t answer right away.  “She . . . She is my daughter—my_ baby _—you see?  And I want to know that I am not being foolish in placing my faith in you_.”

“ _That . . . That wasn’t the only reason,” he admitted, “but I don’t_ . . .”

 _Aiko smiled.  “Well, it probably is a little early to try to define your feelings,” she said.  “I doubt that Saori could, either—not yet, anyway.  That’s okay.  I can understand that.  I know you’re strong.  You’re tai-youkai for a reason, and I have every faith that you can keep Saori safe.  That’s why . . . That’s why I entrust her to your care . . .” Then she winced, sighed, and still smiled.  “I’m not going to lie, though . . . Her father?  He’s going to raise the roof when he finds out that she’s gone off with you_ . . .”

The buzz of his cell phone broke him out of the memory, and Fai pulled it out of his pocket, frowning at the message that he’d received from Evgeni.

‘ _Update re: Konstantin Korinovich . . . Has been reported to me that he has been issuing challenge, if not formally yet, is just a matter of time.  Your immediate attention, required._ ’

‘ _Korinovich . . . How foolish,_ ’ his youkai-voice remarked.  ‘ _His family . . . the regency . . . Is he really that careless?_ ’

Fai stared at the message for a long moment before firing a text back: ‘ _Nothing can be done unless and until he issues formal challenge._ ’

Dropping the phone back into his pocket, he drew a deep breath.  Yes, it would be entirely foolhardy for him to issue that challenge, which wasn’t really here nor there, was it?  More perplexing, really, was the fact that Konstantin’s father, Maxim was one of the Russian regents, tasked with governing over the youkai in their areas.  Fai was, of course, kept apprized of the larger issues, but for small disputes, the regents were more than adequate to ensure the peace.

‘ _Except that you’ve yet to make time to talk to any of them—at least, the ones who are left . . ._ ’

Fai frowned.  In the earliest years of his tenure, he’d been challenged by a number of the regents.  Their remaining kin had lost all rights to their regencies, and Fai had dealt with everything in those areas ever since.  Korinovich, however . . . Maxim was regent to Siberia, easily the largest regency in Russia—and also easily the most difficult to police, too, given the raw scope of it . . .

Besides, his father hadn’t really leaned very heavily upon those men, either.  He’d thought that the whole system was archaic and had considered abolishing the regencies for a long time, but he just never got around to it . . .

“Bye bye!” Saori called, waving at the children as she stepped backward, heading toward Fai.  She was laughing, her entire aura seemed to glow with happiness, and when she turned to face him, her already broad smile widened even more.  Strands of hair floating around her, she reached up, pulled the twigs out of her hair to let it spill down her back like a downy soft cloud.  “That was so much fun!” she said, letting the twigs fall from her fingers.  “I think we lost, though . . .”

“Oh, I don’t know.  A smile like that?  I’d say you won,” he told her as she hurried around the railing and back onto the packed cobblestone path.

She wrinkled her nose.  “You think so?  You should have played, too.”

“It’s all right,” he assured her as they started walking once more.  “Should we go find something to eat?”

She shrugged.  “All right . . . Let’s go back to the hotel first, though.  I’d like to take a shower.”

‘ _Aren’t you going to tell her about the threat Korinovitch poses?_ ’ his youkai prompted.

Fai considered it, but discarded the idea almost as quickly.  ‘ _It’s just a rumor, and even then, she’d just worry.  What’s the point in that?_ ’

‘ _Do you think she’ll thank you later?_ ’

‘ _If and when it becomes an issue, then I’ll tell her . . . maybe._ ’

His youkai sighed.  ‘ _You’re not forgetting, are you?_ ’

‘ _Forgetting?  Forgetting what?_ ’

‘ _The promise you made her.  You’re not forgetting, are you?_ ’

Scowling at the reminder, Fai wasn’t sure how to answer that.  Sure, he had promised that he wouldn’t worry her like he had when he’d taken off to see to that challenge before.  Still, it wasn’t exactly the same.  There wasn’t a formal challenge yet, anyway.

‘ _And if it comes down to it?  If there is one?_ ’

Fai sighed.  Saori didn’t seem to notice, nor did she seem to notice his silence as she chattered on about the children, the city, about everything.

If the challenge did come from it, then he’d tell her about it.  For now, however, there wasn’t much he could say or do that made sense.  If there was one thing he’d learned over the course of his short tenure as tai-youkai, it was that nothing was ever set in stone—at least, not until there was something concrete to back it up.

“Fai-sama?”

Blinking away the dark thoughts that plagued him, Fai glanced down at Saori, only to find her, peering up at him, all hints of her smile gone, her brows drawn together with a concerned sort of frown on her face.  “Uh, you were saying?”

She shook her head.  “What is it?” she asked instead.

He forced a wan smile, solely for her benefit.  “It’s nothing,” he told her, willing away the things that had yet to come to pass.

She didn’t look like she believed him, but she seemed to understand that he wasn’t about to tell her more than that, and she sighed softly.  “Okay . . . I . . . I’ve had fun today,” she said, but a measure of her usual ebullience was conspicuously gone.

“Me, too,” he said, and, looking down at her, he was vaguely surprised when he realized that he meant it.  “Me . . . too . . .”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Silent Reader ——— xSerenityx020 ——— Goldeninugoddess
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— Amanda Gauger ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lianned88
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _What’s he thinking about_ …?


	29. 028: Slowing Down

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_28_** ~~  
~ ** _Slowing Down_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Wandering along the waterfront as she adjusted the thin, black irridescent satin shawl that she’d brought along to warn away the chill in the crisp evening air, Saori couldn’t help the contented little smile that turned up the edges of her lips as she shifted her gaze out over the water, as she bit her lip, her eyes taking in the glowing moon, so high overhead.  “That was . . . amazing,” she breathed, almost more to herself than to Fai.  “You know, after I’d heard that Covington-sama threatened to have my second-cousin’s mate hunted if he ever stepped foot in Australia again, I thought he was mean, but he isn’t, really . . . I’ll have to send him a thank you note in the morning . . .”

Fai didn’t quite chuckle, but she could sense his overall amusement.  It was quiet, subdued, but there, nonetheless, and she couldn’t help but to feel a certain happiness that she was here to share it with him.  “It was very nice of him,” he agreed.  “Why did he threaten to do that?”

Saori shrugged.  “Well, the man who had kidnapped my second-cousin, Jillian-san had been exiled from the United States, and Australia agreed to take him.  He knew Jillian-san’s biological parents, and when he went missing, her mate, Gavin-san came to see if he could figure out what was going on, only to break into the man’s apartment.  His people found Gavin-san there, and they arrested him while they tried to find out what connection, if any, they had to each other.  Anyway, when Zelig-sama went there to free Gavin-san, he and Covington-sama had an altercation that led to Covington-sama insisting that Gavin-san would be hunted if he ever stepped foot in Australia again.”

Fai thought that over for a long moment as they continued to wander along the path.  “So, basically, those two ended up in an international pissing war,” he concluded.  “I’ve heard the rumors before.  It’s best to be a little extra mindful of one’s manners when approaching Jude for any kind of favor in his jurisdiction.”

Saori nodded slowly.  “So, you’re suggesting that Zelig-sama wasn’t as diplomatic as he could have been?”

“His son-in-law, being detained on suspicion of murder?  I don’t imagine he was, no.”  Shaking his head to get his long bangs out of his eyes, Fai shrugged, as though the entire thing was simply par for course.  “I’ve dealt with Jude before, and he’s always been decent to me.  Actually, he tends to be very magnanimous with people who he doesn’t perceive to be stepping on his toes.”

They’d been surprised when they’d returned to the hotel from their day of exploring Sydney, only to be stopped by the concierge, who wanted to deliver a large bouquet of flowers, along with a thick envelope, all from Jude Covington.  The Australian tai-youkai had seen fit to arrange an entertainment package for them.  They’d just left the opera, having been privileged enough to attend opening night of _la Traviata_ at the Sydnie Opera House.  Tomorrow, there was a private harbor cruise, followed by dinner with Jude and his generals with family, of course, and then there were a pair of tickets to see _The Reckless Ones_ , a new and very popular musical that had been sold out, worldwide, since it had opened on Broadway a few years ago.  It seemed that Jude owned boxes at both the Sydnie Opera House, where they’d just seen _la Traviata_ , as well as the People’s Theatre, where _The Reckless Ones_ was being performed, so they were pretty much open-ended invitations.

Thinking about the opera they’d just seen, however, made Saori sigh, even as a melancholy sort of sadness returned.  As beautiful as the opera was, the story behind it was so tragic: Violetta, the courtesan who found love with the dashing Alfredo, leaving her life behind to start over again, only to be confronted by Alfredo’s father, who wants Violetta to leave his son alone, to the point that he breaks down her resistance, and she complies.  In the end, though, true love wins over all, and the two are united, only for Violetta to die in Alfredo’s arms as the stage faded to black . . . “Do you think that Violetta was truly happy?”

Fai considered Saori’s question for a second.  “At the end?  Yes . . . They say that . . . that true love can overcome everything.  In that moment, she was loved, and she knew it.  That’s not the real question, in my opinion.”

She blinked and turned her attention away from the water in favor of peering up at him in the glow of the gentle lamplights that lined the path and cast such stark shadows as it contrasted with the night.  “What is?”

Offering a nonchalant shrug as he dug his hands deep into the pockets of the tuxedo that he’d bought for the occasion, Fai’s gaze darted around them, as though unconsciously looking for any sign of a threat—a direct contradiction to the ease of his gait.  “Well, it makes me wonder just how miserable Alfredo was when she died—how long he mourned . . . if he ever found anyone else to make his existence worth anything . . .”

“If he were youkai . . .”

Fai nodded sagely.  “For us, there’s only one true love—one chance, one hope . . . For humans?”  Suddenly, he chuckled, shook his head.  “Who knows?”

“When you put it that way, it sounds so shallow,” she grumbled.  The pragmatic way he’d stated it had managed to shatter the overall romantic notions in Saori’s thoughts, even though she rather doubted that it was his intention to do so.  “Are you one of those who believes that humans are inferior?”

Fai grunted.  “No, not inferior,” he told her.  “Granted, I can’t say that I’ve been around too many humans, but the ones I knew in school . . . It always seemed to me that they were a little more focused on the here and now and less interested in the longer term.  It probably has something to do with the limited lifespan, but it always struck me as a little tragic, I guess . . .”

She considered that, her face contorting into a thoughtful scowl.  Had she ever considered anything like that?  No, she supposed she really hadn’t.  After all, she had been raised with human relatives, and they hadn’t quite fit into the same mold that Fai was describing, but, thinking back now, she could see the truth of what he’d said.  Of her friends she’d made at the university, she recognized the same thing.  It just hadn’t really been something that she put a finger on at the time.  Now, though?

“My human relatives aren’t like that,” she ventured instead.  “Maybe because they married into the youkai and hanyou lines . . . Maybe their ways of thinking were broadened from that.”

Fai shrugged.  “Because we live longer lives?  Maybe . . . That’s how it’s _supposed_ to be, anyway.”

Something about the way he spoke, about the almost sad sort of lilt to his voice . . . She frowned.  “You’re thinking about your parents, aren’t you?” she asked quietly.

He shot her an almost surprised kind of look, and then he rasped out a short laugh. “I guess I am,” he admitted.  “They weren’t old when they died, but they weren’t young, either . . . I suppose it’s natural to wonder what things would have been like, had they lived longer.”

“Of course, it is,” she said.

Letting out a deep breath, he looked entirely irritated.  “I’m ruining the mood, aren’t I?” he mused.  “I don’t mean to.”

She quickly shook her head.  “You’re not,” she insisted gently, hooking a long strand of hair behind her ear that had escaped the careful chignon she’d arranged her hair into.  “I . . . I like hearing your thoughts, your feelings, even if they aren’t always happy.”

He snorted.  “Except that I sound entirely whiny,” he grumbled.

She laughed softly.  “You don’t.  Besides, I get the impression that you don’t talk much about your feelings . . . Am I wrong?”

“I . . . I don’t,” he admitted.  “To be honest, I’m not sure why I am now.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you something that I’ve never told anyone else, ever?”

The look he shot her was almost suspicious.  He arched an eyebrow at her.  “I don’t know.  What kind of something?”

She sighed, stopped to lean on the railing, resting her forearms on the cool metal, her shoulders pushed up slightly as she shifted her gaze back out over the ever-moving water.  “Just something I’ve never talked about, either . . . something I wouldn’t talk about with anyone back home . . .”

Pondering that mystery of her words for a moment as he mirrored her stance.  “All right.”

She smiled faintly, a little sadly, savoring the feel of the slight breeze, stirring her hair, the freshness that seemed to seep into her pores as she gathered her thoughts.  “I . . . I never quite felt like I fit into my family,” she said quietly.  They’re all so accomplished—so . . . so, ‘together,’ that I . . . Well, I’m not like that.  All my life, I’ve been the one who never did things the way I was supposed to—not on purpose, but . . .” She sighed, slowly shook her head.  “They love me because I’m their daughter, sister, cousin . . . granddaughter . . . but . . . but I don’t think I’ve ever known if they love _me_ . . .”

“Saori—”

“That sounds so dumb,” she blurted, thankful for the darkness that hid the painful blush on her face.  “Really, _really_ dumb . . .”

“I don’t think it does,” he told her.  “But I think you’re wrong.”

“How?”

He let out a deep breath, an almost impatient kind of sigh, turning just enough to frown at her, leaning on one elbow atop the railing.  “They love you—of _course_ , they do.  How could they help but to love you?  Someone like you . . . You’re different.  You’re special.  You’re nothing like anyone else I’ve ever met!  For you to think that they would feel some kind of perfunctory sense of . . . of _whatever_ . . . is madness.  Your family loves you.  Hell, I—”

She blinked when he bit off his words abruptly, and when she dared to shift her gaze to the side, she could only stare when she realized that he was scowling out over the water once more, but it was the blush that stained his cheeks that made her heart jerk to a crazy halt, that stopped time, even if just for that moment.

Without stopping, without thinking, without questioning what she was doing, Saori shifted, reached out to cup his cheek in her hand, to turn his face toward hers as she rose on her toes—as she pressed her lips to his.

He stood still for a second, as though he wasn’t entirely sure how to react.  Suddenly, though, he reached out, pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her as the electric connection between them seemed to crackle in the air.  He uttered a terse sound, caught somewhere deep in his throat, and she answered in a breathy whimper as a violent shiver rattled through him—she felt it under her fingertips, resting against his chest.

The softness of his lips, the tenderness that he afforded her, shot straight through her, made her knees buckle, but Fai was there to catch her, to hold her, as his youki wrapped around her, cosseting her and buffering her, even as her hand curled around a fistful of his immaculate tuxedo jacket . . .

She could feel the emotion surging through him, and yet, his kiss remained gentle, almost teasing, yet filled with such yearning that she felt tears, stinging her closed eyelids . . .

“Saori?” he whispered, a hoarseness in his voice that she didn’t quite grasp as he broke the kiss, leaned back just enough so that he could see her face.  “Saori, are you crying?”

She shook her head quickly, choking out a half-laugh, half-sob, followed in quick order by a little sniffle.  “N-No,” she lied.

“Why . . .?”

She sighed, letting her temple fall against his chest.  He didn’t try to push her back.  If anything, his arms tightened around her just a little more.  “I . . . I can’t explain it,” she admitted.  “I don’t know why . . .”

He let out a deep breath.  It wasn’t a sigh, exactly, but it wasn’t _not_ a sigh, either.  Then he shook his head.  “You confound me,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry,” she said, moments before she giggled.

He grunted, giving her a little squeeze in the process.  “Somehow, I don’t think you are,” he complained rather dryly.

She smiled to herself as she savored the feel of his arms around her.  No, she supposed, she wasn’t sorry; not really . . .

 

* * *

 

 

‘ _You could set it on fire._ ’

Snorting indelicately as she scowled at the very nice bed in the very nice hotel room, Saori crossed her arms over her chest and made a face.  ‘ _Be reasonable, won’t you?  I can’t set the bed on fire, and if I did, then I probably would end up in jail for real, and I don’t think even ojii-chan could get me out of that kind of mess!_ ’

Her youkai-voice sighed.  ‘ _Well, it’d do the trick, you know.  Okay, so if we can’t do—you know what?  It could just be a_ small _fire—purely an_ accident _.  Just enough to make it so that you can’t sleep in here tonight._ ’

Saori rolled her eyes.  ‘ _And this would be how I end up in trouble so often._ ’

‘ _It’s not like you had any better ideas, you know!_ ’

‘ _How on earth did you think that setting anything on fire would be a good idea?_ ’ she fumed.

‘ _You’re the one who wanted to come up with a reason why your room wouldn’t suit, just so you could go, crawling into Fai-sama’s bed!  I was just trying to help you come up with a good plan!  Besides, if you did set the bed on fire, then at least you would have a good reason not to return to your own room, at all . . . Did you think about that?_ ’

‘ _Except they’d throw us out if I did that—if I didn’t end up in jail for arson!_ ’

Her youkai-voice uttered an offended, ‘hrumph’.

A curt knock on her door drew her attention, and she turned to yank it open, pinning Fai with a rather mutinous scowl as he blinked and took a step back in retreat.  “Saori?”

She snorted.  “You’re tai-youkai.  Tell me something.”

He narrowed his eyes, but slowly nodded.  “Okay . . .”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she stomped across the room to wrench the window locks and throw it open.  “How is it that everyone else’s youkai-voices give them good ideas while mine seems to want to turn me into an international felon?”

“Huh?”

She snorted again, whipping around so fast that her oversized tee-shirt billowed out around her, only to jerk back and slowly float down around her once more.  “I was trying to figure out how to get you to let me sleep with you, so my youkai-voice suggested pouring water all over the bed—which would be fine for one night, but water dries out—so then, it decided that the best thing to do would be to set the bed on fire— _fire_ —and now, it’s mad at me for pointing out that that would likely get me tossed into the clink for . . . Well, for a _very_ long time.”

His expression, which had started out as guarded, at best, had slowly morphed into the strangest kind of incredulity that might have made her laugh—if she weren’t so agitated.  “. . . Pardon?”

It was only then that she realized just what she’d blurted out of irritation, and she gasped, hands flashing up to flutter over her lips as her eyes grew wide, as an explosion of embarrassed color detonated under her skin.  “Oh, kami, I . . . I said all that out loud . . .”

Fai stared at her for another long moment.  Then he burst out in laughter—great gales of laughter—laughter that ultimately doubled him over as he gasped for breath and wiped his eyes.

Saori didn’t really see it, though.  Too busy, covering her face with her cupped hands, she groaned softly, wondering how possible it would be for the floor to open under her and swallow her whole.

It took him a minute to wind down, to regain control of himself, even though he chuckled a few more times as he crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat.  “So . . . You’re trying to figure out ways to . . . be invited into my bed?” he said, managing a much more diplomatic tone than Saori might have thought possible, given the situation.  “Why don’t you just say that you’d rather sleep in my room?”

She blinked, daring to peer at him from between her fingers.  He looked like he might be serious—maybe.  He also looked like he was two steps from dissolving in laughter once more.  “I . . . I thought that was a little too . . . too forward . . .”

He shrugged.  “Maybe, but definitely better than setting your bed on fire.”

She groaned again, which made him laugh, and that made her blush even darker.  It was a vicious cycle, damned if it wasn’t.

In the end, though, Fai sighed and stepped toward her to take her hand, gently pulling it away from her face despite the token resistance she tried to offer.  He was persistent, though, and he shook his head, tugging her gently behind him as he headed for the doorway.

“What are you . . .?”

Sparing a quick glance over his shoulder at her, he arched his eyebrows, but didn’t stop moving, pulling her across the short hallway to the other bedroom of the hotel room suite.  “You wanted to sleep in my room, right?” he asked, his tone a little nonchalant.  “I sleep better with you near, anyway.”

She blinked, bit her lip, and finally dared to peer up at him.  He wasn’t looking at her, but the lazy sparkle in his eyes spoke volumes, as far as she was concerned.  “You do?”

He shook his head, letting go of her hand so that he could close the door and hit the light panel on the wall.  The lamps beside the bed brightened, but he lowered them a little bit, too.  Then he stepped over to the windows on the other side of the room, digging his hands, deep into his pockets—he was still clad in the tuxedo pants and white shirt, but he’d removed the jacket and bow tie.  Sleeves rolled up a couple of times, the white cotton fabric, accentuating the corded muscles of his forearms.  In the dimmed glow of the lamps, she appreciated the way the warm light played in the strands of his hair, the reddish sheen, the almost golden, but not quite, highlights . . .

He let out a deep breath.  It wasn’t a sigh, exactly, but he didn’t turn to face her as he stared out over the landscape of the city below.  “Vasili said that he told your father and grandfather that I was out of the country on business and that he wasn’t sure when I would return.  He said that they would be leaving,” he told her.

“Kaa-chan called and told me that nii-chan told them that I’ve left,” she said.  “I guess they’re going home . . .”

“Do they know you’re with me?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, folding down the blankets on the bed and slipping between the sheets.  “I mean, kaa-chan said that she and baa-chan thought that it’d be better, not to say anything unless they were asked directly.  Apparently, nii-chan didn’t think to ask her if she knew where I’d gone.”

“Your mother’s not going to get caught in the middle of this, is she?”

That question made Saori sigh since she’d thought that, too.  “I . . . I really don’t know.”

Fai considered that for a long moment before digging his cell phone out of his pocket and staring at it for a long second.  She watched as he dialed a number and waited.  To her surprise, she could hear the call ringing.  He’d put it on speaker.

After the third ring, the call was answered.  “Inutaisho.  Faine.  Is there something I can do for you?”

Turning slightly, but not enough to face Saori, Fai frowned.  “Sesshoumaru, my butler says you were at the castle . . .”

The sound that Saori recognized as the soft squeak of the imposing desk chair in her grandfather’s office came through the line.  “We were,” he replied.  “Saori’s father and I wished to speak to you in regards to my granddaughter.  You wouldn’t happen to know where she is right now, would you?”

“I do,” Fai stated.  “I went there to offer her a job.  She has background knowledge of the children at the orphanage, having worked there, so I thought she would be an excellent choice to help me since I’m attempting to find placement for some of them, even if it means placing them in homes outside of my jurisdiction.”

There was a very long, very pregnant pause on the other end of the call.  He was likely considering Fai’s assessment before responding.  “And you’ve forgiven her for . . . kidnapping you . . .?”

“Given that I parted ways with her briefly when the van broke down and came back on my own, then I’d say the issue of her . . . _appropriating_ me . . . wasn’t really a problem,” Fai said.

“You . . . left her and then went back?  I see . . .”

Fai sighed.  “Anyway, I didn’t want anyone to worry.  I had a meeting with Jude Covington about the orphans, so we’re currently here in Australia.”

“I shall ask Toga to look into couples, looking to adopt,” Sesshoumaru responded.  “I do not need to emphasize just how important Saori’s safety and well-being is to her family and to me, do I?”

Saori grimaced when Fai’s expression darkened.  “Oh, I think I understand perfectly well,” he said, sounding much more agreeable than the look on his face would suggest.

“Good, then.  I’ll be in touch.  Do tell Saori to behave herself.”

Rolling her eyes, she uttered a terse, ‘hmpf’.  Luckily for her, however, the phone call cut off, and she made a face.

“I assume you heard your grandfather?” Fai asked in a remarkably dry tone.

She made the sound again.  “It’d be much easier to behave if my youkai-voice didn’t suggest such outrageous things and then make them sound logical.”

“Blaming your youkai-voice isn’t really logical, either,” he pointed out, setting the phone on the dresser and slowly working the buttons on the front of his shirt.  “I’m going to take a quick shower.  You’re not going to set that bed on fire so you can come in the bathroom with me, are you?”

She blinked and wrinkled her nose at the teasing, even though she couldn’t quite staunch the blush that rose in her cheeks, either.  Then she lifted a hand, flicking her fingers to indicate that he should go on, opting not to respond to that, in any case.

His chuckles echoed in the room after he’d dropped his shirt over the back of a nearby chair and stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

‘ _How embarrassing,_ ’ she moaned to herself, shaking her head, wishing that she could go back in time and curb her overzealous mouth.

‘ _Okay . . . so, setting the bed on fire wasn’t my best idea, but you have to admit, the end result was worth it . . ._ ’

She snorted since she wasn’t really in the mood to concede anything to her annoying voice.  ‘ _The humiliation, you mean?  I could have done without that._ ’

‘ _Not that . . . You heard him laugh, didn’t you?  And not just a little, cute laugh.  A huge laugh . . ._ ’

She considered that as a hint of a smile tugged at her lips.  Staring across the room at the closed bathroom door, she finally giggled, flopping down against the mattress.

Her amusement died away, though, when she drew a deep breath.  The bed didn’t smell like Fai.  It smelled more like detergents with an underlying hint of bleach, but not at all like him, which shouldn’t have been as jarring to her as it ultimately was.

Pushing herself up on her hands, she frowned.  What she really wanted was to surround herself with his scent, and the strange bed did nothing to offer her that.

Staring around the hotel room, she let out a long, deep breath, but when her eyes lit on the shirt he’d just left, hanging on the back of a chair, her frown turned thoughtful.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she hopped out of the bed, shedding the tee-shirt, scurrying across the room and yanking the abandoned shirt from the chair.  She couldn’t suppress the light giggle that slipped out of her as she pulled it on and buttoned it up, savoring the feel of the cotton cloth against her skin.  Flipping up the collar as she shuffled back to the bed, she buried her nose in it, breathed in Fai’s scent as she slipped back into the bed once more.

Funny how different the bed felt to her.  Comfortable and inviting, she held the collar against her face as she settled in, as she closed her eyes.  She’d just wait for him and endure whatever teasing he tossed her way for what she’d taken upon herself to do.  She didn’t care at the moment.  In fact, there was a good chance that Fai wasn’t going to get this shirt back, ever . . .

‘ _I’ll just . . . just relax till he’s done . . ._ ’ she thought as a huge yawn brought tears to her eyes.

She was fast asleep when Fai stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later.  Spotting her tee-shirt on the floor, he frowned and slowly looked over at her, only to blink, to smile when he saw her, curled up on her side in the bed, the collar of his shirt, pressed against her face as she slept.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— Amanda+Gauger
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _Now she stole my shirt_ …?


	30. 029: Official Capacity

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_29_** ~~  
~ ** _Official Capacity_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

It was a gorgeous day with a tangy breeze blowing off the water at the sprawling estate just outside of Sydney—Jude Covington’s estate.  He knew already that Jude only spent weekends and holidays here and tended to stay in an apartment downtown the rest of the week to be closer to his actual office.  It was probably less of a hassle, especially for a man like him, who tended to prize his privacy above all else—something else that Fai could truly appreciate about him.

That he was opening his home to them was remarkable enough.  He had heard the man’s generals remarking that it was a rare treat to be invited into his sanctuary, especially for a late luncheon.

Even so, he hadn’t quite decided whether or not he wanted to spend their last day in Sydney at Jude’s estate.  Given that Saori was having a lot of fun on her first visit to the city, it seemed a little anticlimactic to hole themselves away out here when they could spend more time, sightseeing, but when he’d mentioned that to her, she’d seemed almost appalled at the very idea that they might turn down Jude’s invitation.  He supposed she had a point since they’d spent the last couple days, taking full advantage of the entertainment package that he’d so thoughtfully given them . . .

Tonight, they were going to go see the other show that they hadn’t had time to see yet.  Yesterday, he’d taken her shopping to find something suitable for the event.  She’d refused to let him see the dress, however, telling him that it was a surprise.  He was all right with that, anyway.  The woman had impeccable taste in clothing, he’d realized.

They were seated around a very large table on the huge patio that overlooked the Tasman Sea as polite talk had swirled around them.  All in all, it wasn’t a bad way to spend the day, he had to admit as a ship blew its horn on the waters, interrupting the call of the birds that swooped into and out of view.

“Oh, Miss Senkuro . . . I wanted to let you know, we’ve spoken, and we think we have four families who might be interested in seeing the children’s files.  Do you have those yet, or . . .?” Jude asked, leaning forward, elbows on the table, fingers knitted together before him over his empty plate.

“I don’t have those compiled yet, but I will just as soon as we return to Russia . . .” she said.  “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

Jude chuckled.  “Not at all,” he assured her.  “One of the women is here, actually . . .” Jude nodded toward the woman who had been introduced as Ketta Nash, one of his generals: a koala-youkai.

The woman gave Saori a very bright smile, her deep brown eyes, shining engagingly.  “I’m looking for an older child, maybe around ten years old?  Someone who is old enough to enjoy the kinds of things I do—hiking, camping, mountain climbing . . . Things you can’t really do with a younger child . . .”

Fai frowned.  “Pardon me for asking, but you’re not mated . . .?”

She didn’t seem surprised by the personal nature of the question.  “I’m not, but I also don’t think that that should be a huge consideration.  I have a beautiful home that feels entirely empty.  Kind of depressing, really . . . I have a lot to offer a child, and if I do say so myself?  I will be an awesome mother, I promise you.”

Fai smiled.  “We’ll discuss it,” he allowed.  “I don’t see it being a problem, though.”

Ketta’s smile widened.

Jude nodded, obviously pleased that Ketta’s partner status would not be an issue.  He stood up, inclining his head toward his guests.  “Well, if the rest of you would like to enjoy my chef’s efforts at dessert, we should retire to my office, discuss a few more things before you all head back home . . . Fai, would you care to join us?  There’s nothing that we need to discuss that you can’t hear, after all . . .”

Fai nodded and stood, sparing a brief moment to meet Saori’s gaze, to give her a little nod when she smiled up at him.

Jude’s office had a door just off the patio, and he followed the others into the glass room.  Most of Jude’s house was actually little more than a configuration of windows—very thick windows.  Very modern, very contemporary—and a little unsettling since the only difference between the room dividers were the frosted glass used on the bathroom enclosure, he’d noticed.  Even the fireplaces were made of smoked, tempered glass . . . As interesting as the place was, Fai would be lying if he tried to say that he’d ever be comfortable, living in such an exposed place . . . Maybe it was simply because he’d always lived in Demyanov Castle . . .

A light hand on his forearm drew him out of his reverie, and he glanced down to find Ketta, smiling at him.  “Would you care for a drink, Your Grace?”

“Oh, I’m good,” he said, “but thank you.”

She slipped her hand up under his elbow, steering him toward one of the long, low sofas near the windows that overlooked the sea and didn’t move away when they sat down.  “I’ve heard so much about you,” she remarked, setting on the sofa, turning toward him, her knee touching his.  “I must confess, I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to meet you, though.  It’s absolutely a pleasure.”

“Thank you,” he replied, a little uncomfortable with her proximity, but not really seeing a way around it, either.

The others took seats on the other sofa or in one of the chairs that flanked them on the ends.  Jude sat in the chair on the end nearest to the desk with a glass of something; Fai couldn’t tell what.  “I think we’ve covered most everything else,” Jude remarked.  “I did want to ask, though, if anyone’s found out anything about Tim Marcon?”

One of the generals—a dingo-youkai named Lew—snorted.  “That little snake?  He’s hidden himself good, if he’s even still here on the continent.”

Drew Paulson, a kangaroo-youkai—grunted indelicately.  “Considering he has to know that he’s going to swing for what he did?  Not really surprising, is it?”

Pale green eyes taking on a heightened glow, Jude leveled a no-nonsense look at each of his generals in turn.  “Inexcusable.  He must be found.  I’ve sent all my hunters out to look for him.  It’s wasting my resources and making me look like a bumbling fool . . .”

Fai frowned.  “What did he do?”

Ketta sighed.  “Do you remember last winter?  The reports of someone detonating a bomb in the Livier Office Complex?  They planted explosives in a number of baby bags inside the nursery on the ground level?  Killed more than a seventy people—twenty-nine of them, babies under a year of age—and injured more than a hundred others?  That was Marcon’s work.”

“Damn,” Fai muttered.  He had indeed heard the reports.  They were all over the international news.  “Do you know why he did that?”

“We don’t know for sure,” Jude replied.  “But he is known to be very vocal on the anti-human front, so that’s what we’re assuming it was.”

“If he fled the country, if he headed to Europe, then there’s not a damn thing we can do to touch him.  MacDonnough will grant him amnesty, just by virtue of him being within his borders,” Lew remarked.

“I really don’t get why Sesshoumaru allows him to run amok like he does.  The MacDonnough’s as bad as the other extremists,” Drew added.

“It’s not his place to dictate our policies,” Fai stated.  “Whether he agrees or not, he won’t interfere—not unless there is no other choice.  I, for one, appreciate this about him, even if MacDonnough’s politics don’t reflect my own beliefs, either.”

“Spoken like a true tai-youkai,” Lew remarked with a chuckle.  Then he sighed.  “Just makes our work that much more difficult.”

Jude sighed.  “I’ll call him tomorrow; see if he has heard anything—if he’s in a good mood, maybe he’ll talk.”  His lip curled up in a derisive kind of sneer, exposing a flash of his fang.  “Though I kind of doubt he’ll be any help to me, at all.”

“I’ll keep an eye out in Asia,” Fai offered.  “Maybe you should call the others—give them the head’s up in case he surfaces somewhere outside of Europe.”

“Except you’re still on the outs with the Zelig, aren’t you?” Ketta asked, arching an eyebrow to emphasize her point.

Jude snorted, draining his glass in one long swallow.  “If Marcon shows up in his jurisdiction, then I’d suppose that it’d be his problem then.”

Drew rolled his eyes.  “Really, Jude?  Really?”

Jude shot him a dark look.  “Given that the Zelig’s mate is hanyou, and Marcon despises humans in general, North America is the last place he’d go.  Calling _him_ wouldn’t be worth my time.”

The generals exchanged looks while Jude stood up to refill his drink.

“Sometimes I think he holds grudges just because he can,” Ketta murmured, leaning toward Fai, as though she were sharing a secret with him.  She reached out, carefully pulled a bit of lint off his jacket and dropped it on the floor before smoothing the spot a few times.

“I heard about that,” he replied just as quietly, opting to ignore her gesture.

She laughed.  It was a husky kind of sound, not at all unpleasant, but perhaps a little friendlier than he was comfortable with.  “The Zelig is a sore spot with him.  I imagine it will be for a while.  No one, and I do mean, no one, holds a grudge better than Jude . . .”

He opened his mouth to answer her, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw her: Saori, standing down on the beach by herself, staring out over the water.  Hair tossed in the breeze, her back straight, proud, and yet . . . Why did he have the feeling that she was upset?

No, not upset.  That wasn’t the right word.

But he wasn’t sure what, exactly, he meant, either . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Leaning against the balcony railing, Saori stared out over the city, shrugging her shoulders to adjust the cream colored shawl.  The early evening skies were deepening in color though the daylight had only just begun to soften.  She uttered a soft sigh, fiddling with the thin gold bracelet on her right wrist—one her father had given to her for her eighteenth birthday—just a simple chain.  The hem of the deep gold satin, spaghetti strap, slip dress barely brushed mid-thigh, flaring out around her hips just enough to add movement as it caught in the breeze, blowing out around her, only to drift back down again, over and over.  She’d chosen a color that was close to amber—a shade that reminded her of her mother’s eyes.

Fai was still changing for their planned evening to attend the People’s Theatre to see _The Reckless Ones_ with a late dinner to follow.  Saori had considered, begging off, maybe telling Fai that she was just a little too tired, but in the end, she hadn’t done it.

‘ _Because you’re pouting.  That’s all it is._ ’

‘ _I’m not,_ ’ she argued, trying not to think about the thing that was really bothering her.  ‘ _I just . . . I mean, it’s not like . . . like he . . . he’s made any kind of promise or anything to me.  I . . . I don’t know why that bothered me so much . . ._ ’

‘ _You do know.  She was all over him, and you didn’t like that.  In fact, you really wanted to march in there and yank her off of that sofa . . ._ ’

She sighed, wincing at the deadly accuracy of her youkai’s words.  That really was her gut reaction to seeing Ketta Nash, almost sitting in Fai’s lap, watching her as she whispered in his ear, as she touched his chest . . .

And why wouldn’t she?  After all, Fai had introduced Saori as, ‘his assistant’ for the, ‘orphan placement project’ . . .

‘ _What did you want him to say?  That you sleep together at night, all curled up on him like some kind of weird parasite?  Come on, Saori . . ._ ’

She flinched inwardly.  ‘ _I . . . I know that’s what I am—his assistant.  And . . . And it’s not like he needs to say anything else, either.  I mean, if you look at Ketta next to me?  That’s . . . That’s like comparing apples to oranges.  She’s not just beautiful and accomplished, she’s got that same kind of confidence that women like kaa-chan or . . . or obaa-chan . . . or Kagome-oba-chan . . . That, well,_ all _the women in the family have—but I don’t.  That’s . . . That’s fine, right?  Because everyone’s different, but . . ._ ’

‘ _Yeah, maybe you should call your mother.  This is about the time she’d give you one of your little pep-talks, and you’d feel all right again afterward . . ._ ’

Biting her bottom lip, Saori shook her head.  No, she didn’t think that it would do any good; not this time, anyway.  She was past the age where things like that worked.  At some point, she had to learn how to do that for herself.  It was just a little harder than she’d realized.

“Sorry it took so long,” Fai said as he stepped outside behind her.  “Yerik called before I could hop in the shower . . .”

She drew a deep, steadying breath before straightening her back, turning to face him.  “It’s fine,” she said, pasting on a bright smile as she stepped forward, past him, back into the common room.  “I’ll just grab my purse . . .”

Fai followed her inside and locked the door.  “Saori . . .”

“Hmm?” she murmured, checking the small purse for the things she might need: a little cash—enough for a cab, if it came to that—her lip gloss, a powder compact . . . a few tissues, a tiny bottle of hand lotion, a small tin of breath mints . . .

“You look . . . beautiful . . .”

She blinked, her chin snapping up, as though she were trying to make sure that he wasn’t teasing her.  The look on his face, the intensity in his gaze, convinced her that he wasn’t doing any such thing, and she couldn’t help the light blush that rose to her cheeks.

He sighed.  “All right.  Tell me what’s bothering you.”

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, quickly shook her head.  “N-Nothing,” she insisted, hoping that he’d drop it, that he wouldn’t press her for more.

He considered her answer, slowly nodded as he paced the floor, taking his time as he fiddled with his cufflinks, and as the silence stretched out between them, she couldn’t think of a thing to say to stop the awful degeneration.

“Do you remember what you said to me when you found out about that challenge?”

She blinked, shook her head.  She wasn’t sure where he was going with this . . . “Yes . . .”

“You told me not to worry you again.  Do you remember that?”

“Of course, I do, but—”

He stopped, met her gaze with a serious expression, a slight furrowing of his brows that drew his eyebrows in.  Unruly hair, hanging low over his forehead did nothing to hide the intensity in his eyes as he stared hard at her, as though he were daring her to lie.  “It goes both ways, you know.  You’re making me worry now, so whatever it is that’s bothering you, you need to tell me.  I can’t read your mind.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted.  “It’s stupid, and . . . and I’m stupid for thinking about it.  It’s not like you . . . you _owe_ me anything. You don’t, and I—”

“For starters, you’re not stupid, and I know that this has something to do with the whole thing at Jude’s estate . . .” he told her.  “You were fine before that.”

Wrapping her arms over her stomach, her purse smashed between her arms and her belly, Saori gave a little shrug.  “She’s . . . She’s very pretty,” she said, unable to speak much louder than a whisper—unable to look him in the eye.  “And she . . .” She winced.  “It was pretty obvious that she liked you, too . . .”

“Too?” he echoed, shaking his head, his surprise evident in his tone.  “Who?”

She couldn’t quite help the darkened scowl she shot him.  Just why he was making her spell it out was almost more than she could take.  “Nash-san,” she said in a much more even tone than she felt.

“Ketta?” he blurted before he could stop himself.  Then he barked out a terse laugh.  “I’m not interested in her.”

“She was practically on your lap,” she pointed out.

He snorted.  “What was I supposed to do?  Cause a scene by moving away from her?  Shove her over on the sofa?  I didn’t encourage her, if that’s what you mean.”

“I doubt you’d have to,” Saori grumbled.  “She was doing well enough without your help.”

He sighed.  “You have no reason to be jealous, you know.”

She narrowed her eyes on him, and he blinked.  “I’m not jealous, Your Grace.  I’m trying to be a good person—trying to encourage you to pursue her if you’re interested in her.”

He snorted again.  “Is that so?  Then I’d rather that you _were_ jealous,” he growled back.  “And . . . and I forbid you to call me that, ever again.”

“Call you what?” she demanded.

He leveled a pointed look at her.  “Your Grace,” he bit out.

She rolled her eyes since that was, in fact, the proper way to address him, but she let that go, at least, for the moment.  “And why would you want me to be jealous?  Men _hate_ jealous women!” she pointed out instead.

“Are you stereotyping me?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, you shouldn’t.  You also shouldn’t mistake politeness for anything else, either.”

“And _you_ shouldn’t allow women you just met to practically sit on your lap, to touch your chest like they know you— _Your Grace!_ ” she ground out.

He grunted, but whether he was more agitated at the fact that she’d just used the form of address that he’d tried to forbid her from using or because of her words, she didn’t know.  “All right, I get your point.  It won’t happen again—And this whole discussion is another good reason why having a glass house is a _colossally_ stupid idea.”

For some reason, his statement caught her off guard, and she giggled despite herself.

But her misplaced amusement seemed like a balm on him, and, while he didn’t laugh, he let out a deep breath—and smiled a little sheepishly.  “I’m not interested in her in the least,” he told her at length.  “I didn’t know how to get away from her without seeming rude—and when she asked if I’d meet with her for drinks, I told her that I couldn’t.”

Saori wrinkled her nose.  “She invited you out for drinks?”

Fai shook his head.  “She did, but, as I told you, I’m not even slightly interested in dating her.  Why would I when I . . . I mean, we . . .?” Letting out a deep breath, he shook his head.  “There’s something here . . . and I think you know it, too, don’t you?”

She blinked, her brain seeming to screech to a sudden stop right over a gully that extended down over a darkened pit that ended in nothingness, and the only thing that kept her, suspended over that chasm, was him—Fai . . . “Do . . . I?”

He stared at her for a long moment before closing the distance between them in a couple of steps.  Stopping before her, tilting her chin up with a crooked index finger, he arched an eyebrow as he gazed into her eyes.  “Yes,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky tone.  “I . . . I think you do . . .”

She grasped his wrist, but whether she was trying to push him back or hold him to her, she didn’t know—and didn’t care.  That electric sense of connection was magical, and somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice whispered, told her to remember this moment because that feeling was something she was lucky to have found, even as the tendrils of a heady sense of something wild and wanton unfurled deep inside her.  His eyes seemed to glow as he brought up his thumb, ran it over her lips with a feathery light touch.  His touch sent a shiver through her, and when he felt it, he smiled a gentle, sweet little smile, one that was enough to bring a stinging to her eyes, a tingling to her nose . . .

He let out a deep breath and let his hand fall away.  “We, um . . . We’d better get going if we’re going to make it to the theatre in time for the start of the show,” he said.  She heard the hint of regret in his voice, as though he had hated to end the moment as much as she’d hated for it to end, too.

But he stepped past her, held the door open for her.  She paused as she headed out of the room, long enough to reach up, to straighten his tie, and he chuckled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020 ——— Goldeninugoddess
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Amanda Gauger ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— Minzee
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** lianned88
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _Something there_ …


	31. 030: Russian Princess

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_30_** ~~  
~ ** _Russian Princess_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“Well, well, well . . . Welcome home, Saori.”

Breaking into a bright smile, Saori set her suitcase on the floor and darted over to hug Yerik, who was leaning against one of the ornate staircase newel post.  “Yerik-kun!  I missed you!”

The younger Demyanov chuckled.  “Yerik-kun?” he echoed, arching an eyebrow as he broke into a slight grin.  “That’s interesting . . . and I missed you, yes.  Not as much as Fai, but of course, I did.”

She giggled, pinking slightly as she managed to quell her exuberance.  Taking a step back, she scrunched up her shoulders in a little bob, giving him a happy little bow of her head as she remembered her manners a little late.  “Thank you!”

“Vasili, take Saori’s things to her room.  I’m sure she’d like to freshen up,” Fai commanded, striding past his brother, heading for his office.  “Yerik, brief me.”

Yerik rolled his eyes, but spared a moment to wink at Saori before heading off after his brother, leaving Saori to follow the stoic butler, who had already retrieved her suitcase.

“I can get that myself,” she said, hating the feeling that she was somehow inconveniencing the man.  To be honest, she wasn’t entirely sure, just what to make of Vasili, and she had to admit that she really wondered if he even liked her at all.  Somehow, she felt like maybe he didn’t, even though he didn’t really make any outward overtures to indicate as much.  Then again, maybe she was simply reading too much into it . . .

“It’s quite all right, my lady,” he replied.  His tone was brusque, but he didn’t seem entirely aloof, as he had before, either.

“I don’t want to put you to any trouble,” she insisted.  “Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary,” he assured her.  “On the contrary, it’s my job—my pride.”

She considered that and relaxed just a little.  “How long have you worked for Fai-sama?” she asked instead.  “I mean, you worked for his father, too, didn’t you?”

“And his grandfather,” Vasili said.  “My father worked for the family, all the way back to the days of the first Asian tai-youkai.  It’s been the honor of my family to care for the needs of the Demyanov family, and, God willing, we will continue to do so in the years to come.”

She sighed.  “I apologize if my family gave you any trouble,” she said, thinking back to the impromptu rescue party—and wondering if her grandfather and father had behaved themselves when they were here, too.

“I assure you, it was an experience I will never forget, meeting not only the Inu no Taisho as well as the hanyou of legend.”

She grimaced since she wasn’t entirely sure that his words could or should be taken at face value.  “Ji-chan tends to get a little impatient,” she admitted.

To her surprise, Vasili chuckled.  It was the first real crack she’d ever seen in his otherwise stony façade.  “Most people can only dream of having seen the legendary sword, Tetsusaiga.  I, on the other hand, can attest to having not only seen it, but to have seen it brandished in glorious form.”

Pressing her lips together so that she wouldn’t burst out in a giggle, Saori nodded, but she bit her lip when he opened the door that led to the antechamber.  She’d noticed before that this room setup was different than the other bedrooms in the castle.  It almost felt more like a hotel room suite—a good sized space with a comfortable sitting area in the center with a large television, mounted on a wall.  On the one side by the door that led to Fai’s room, there were a few massive bookshelves, some with books, some with various knickknacks and collectables arranged on the shelves.  On the other side of the room near another door exactly like Fai’s stood a huge stone fireplace.  Before that was a low, square table that almost reminded Saori of a kotatsu with a bunch of colorful pillows arranged around it.

Vasili, however, didn’t stop, leading the way to the other door, and he opened it and stepped back, allowing her to slip past the butler into a very pretty, very feminine room.  Decorated in varying shades of dusty rose, in miles of antique cream-colored lace, even the furnishings were far more delicate, daintier, than she’d seen anywhere else in the castle.

“This was her room,” he ventured.  “His Grace’s mother, Faina . . . Of course, Her Grace and His Grace Alexei had shared the master chamber, but this room was her sanctuary.  Oftentimes, when he was away on business, she would stay in this room instead . . . If it doesn’t please you, do let me know.  These were her favorite colors, but if you prefer otherwise, I’ll be more than happy to make certain that it suits you . . .”

She wasn’t sure why the idea that she was being given Fai’s mother’s room surprised her—and bothered her.  The assumption of intimacy was loud and clear, and for a girl who didn’t have that much experience with men in general, she couldn’t help the overwhelming sense of shyness that crashed down on her hard.

“Should I . . .?  Should I be in here?” she couldn’t help but ask, biting her bottom lip as she shifted uncomfortably.

The old butler looked surprised for a moment before he managed to mask the emotion behind the blank expression he tended to favor.  “When I spoke to His Grace on the phone, he asked me to see that this room was readied for you, so yes, this is where you should be—unless you wish otherwise?”

“He . . . He did?”

Vasili smiled.  The expression brightened his gaze, softened the edges of his rigid stance.  “If I may say so?  In all my time, serving His Grace, I have never seen him go out of his way for anyone, save Master Yerik—no one but you.  It is my honor to serve you, too.  Is there anything else you require?”

For some reason, Vasili’s statement made her unaccountably happy, and she finally relaxed.  “No . . . I . . . Vasili?  Thank you . . .”

He looked genuinely surprised, and he shook his head.  “My lady?”

She shrugged.  “For being kind to me,” she replied simply.

To her surprise, the man actually blushed the tiniest bit.  Then he made a low bow and let himself out of her room after telling her that he would send someone named Marta—a maid—up in short order he help her get settled in.

 

* * *

 

 

“Saori seems very happy,” Yerik remarked as he closed the office door behind them.  “Are you?”

Fai glanced at his brother, arching an eyebrow while Yerik wandered over to pour two glasses of vodka.  “I’m behind; that’s what I am,” he replied dryly, reaching for the stack of mail, arranged neatly on his desk.

“You’re not,” Yerik challenged mildly.  “Vasili sent you the important things that needed immediate attention.  You just hate the idea that you were able to take an impromptu vacation and Asia didn’t fall to pieces while you were gone.”

“Shut up, Yerik,” he grumbled, taking the drink his brother offered to him.

Yerik chuckled, tipping his glass to his lips.  “You had Saori installed in Mother’s room,” he mused.

“Is it a problem?”

Yerik shook his head, and his smile widened.  “Not at all.  I’m . . . I’m glad for you.”

“Except you don’t sound like you are,” Fai pointed out, draining his glass in one fluid gulp.

“No, I am,” he insisted.  “I was just thinking that it’s the first time I’ve ever known you to do anything, just for yourself.  That’s all.  You should do things like that more often.”

Fai grunted, setting the empty glass down with a heavy thud as he sank down in the chair behind the desk and leaned back.  “Your hunt?” he prompted, opting to ignore the subject at hand.

Yerik’s smile didn’t fade, but he nodded.  “Laquan was able to tell me where Qiang was staying.  It was simple, actually—a little anticlimactic, really.  For someone who was said to have bragged often about the number of humans he’d killed, he went down without much of a fight, which was a little disappointing.  I mean, I assume that’s why he targeted humans.  They were the only creatures on earth who were weaker than he was.”

Nodding slowly, processing the disgust in Yerik’s tone for what it was, Fai figured he could understand his brother’s sentiments well enough.  He’d often thought over the years that the youkai who targeted humans tended to be a cowardly lot, too—targeting beings who were weaker, just like Yerik had said.  It took a particular kind of despicable, in his opinion.

“Good job, hunter,” Fai said.

Yerik sighed as he settled into his chair a little deeper.  “There was something I wanted to talk to you about . . .”

“What’s that?”

Yerik shrugged in a rather offhanded kind of way.  “I heard rumors of a man in Japan named Togareshi,” he went on.  “Said to be an old sword master in the kendo style.  Would you be all right with me, inviting him here?”

“You trained under Master Ling, just like I did,” Fai reminded him.  Master Ling had taught them both the Taijijian martial arts as well as the sword arts that went with the training.  “He’s the best there is.”

Yerik nodded.  “He is, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to broaden my experience, either.”

Fai frowned.  “Did you have trouble you didn’t tell me about?”

“No,” Yerik replied.  “I just think it’s a good idea to keep progressing, to keep learning.  That’s all.”

Fai nodded slowly.  “If that’s what you want to do,” he allowed.

Yerik hauled himself to his feet, grabbing Fai’s empty glass before heading over to refill both of them again.  “You know, if I could, I’d ask Saori’s uncle to come here and give me a few lessons,” he ventured.  “I mean, he’s _legendary_ . . .”

Fai grunted since he wasn’t nearly as impressed with the skills he’d seen as Yerik seemed to be.  “Spending weeks, repairing things around the castle, all because her uncle can’t be bothered to knock on a door?  No, thank you.”

Yerik chuckled.  “He was worried about Saori, that’s all.  You can’t fault him for that.”

Fai snorted loudly.  Given that the headache of the workmen that had invaded his home still loomed large in his mind, he could and he did fault him for it, even if he had to admit, at least to himself, that the damage that he’d single-handedly wrought was fairly impressive . . .

“Vasili said that it was a sight to behold,” he went on, entirely missing Fai’s obvious irritation.  “I wish I had seen it . . .”

“Keep wishing,” Fai grumbled.

“They say he defeated Naraku, almost single-handedly!  What kinds of stories has Saori told you?”

“None—not about him, anyway,” Fai said.  “If you want to know, why don’t you go find her and bug her about it?”

Yerik blinked, turning his head to stare at his brother for a long moment, before resuming his task of sloshing vodka into the glasses.  “You sound a little put upon, Fai . . . Why is that?”

“I’m not,” Fai lied.  “Any other business you need to fill me in on?”

Yerik chuckled.  “Not really, but then, I just got back last night myself.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, I’ll get my official report for you tomorrow, if that’s all right,” Yerik went on, setting the refilled glass on Fai’s desk before he sank into a chair across from him once more.  “It was a little sad, if you want the truth,” he went on, a pensive sort of frown drawing his brows together as he scowled at the glass in his hand.  “Kept saying, over and over, he had a mate, didn’t want her to die . . . and it made me wonder: did any of those humans he killed have families?  Did they beg for their lives, too?”

Fai grimaced.  He’d heard those things, too, hadn’t he?  Over time and often enough that he’d learned quickly to harden himself against those pleas . . . “Don’t dwell on it, Yerik.  He made his choices long ago . . . Even if we wanted to pick and choose, we cannot.”

“I know,” he replied quietly.  Something about the way he continued to stare at the cup in his hand, though . . . “I realize that it wasn’t more than a last effort to sway me, and I don’t feel sorry for what I did—what I _had_ to do . . . Even so, I can’t say that I don’t feel sorry for his mate . . . I mean, it’s not my job as a hunter to go find her, to tell her that her mate is gone, right?  But . . . But I have to wonder if someone should do it.  How fair is it to her when, as far as we know, she hasn’t done anything to warrant our complete apathy . . .?”

“I’ve . . . I’ve wondered that, too . . .”

Fai scowled as he lifted his gaze, only to spot Saori, lingering in the doorway.  She seemed reluctant to enter, and yet, the expression on her face was troubled, thoughtful.  Without another word, she slipped into the office, closed the door quietly, before shuffling across the floor and slipping into the chair beside Yerik.  “Sometimes, I’ve overheard discussions—probably that I wasn’t meant to hear—where they were talking about hunts and stuff, and . . . and I’ve always wondered, just what happens to those mates that were left at home?”  Giving a little shrug, almost a helpless kind of shrug, she shook her head.  “I know what happens to them in the end, sure, but . . . but I wondered before, how would that feel?  To sit there, day after day, and you know in your heart that something’s not right, but you’d _hope_ , wouldn’t you?  If it were me . . . I think I’d still sit there, right up until the end, and I’d hope, and I’d pray, and I’d wait . . .”

Fai sighed.  “What do you want me to do, Saori?  Go and find every potential mate for someone who has had to pay for crimes they’ve committed?  Should I make that a common thing, for a hunter to have to do that, too?”

“No, of course not,” she insisted quietly.  “I’m just saying that it seems a little . . . a little heartbreaking for the ones left behind—that unknowing, that feeling that will stay with them until the end . . .”

Yerik nodded.  “There are no good answers for it, I guess,” he admitted.  “On the one hand, it does feel unfair, and yet, on the other, there really is no one to blame but the one who committed the crimes.  After all, it’s not like you issue a hunt unless it’s warranted.”

But the hell of it was, Fai could understand and appreciate exactly what both Yerik and Saori were saying.  He’d even thought about those same things, too.  His thoughts, however, usually ended up in the realm of anger—anger and disgust that someone would put someone else in that precarious of a situation, having no regard for their lives, at all.  Where were their thoughts when they’d decided to do the things they’d done?  In his considered estimation, they’d made their choice—they’d opted to condemn those whom they professed to love—with their own actions, and as cruel and cold as that sounded, it was the honest truth, too.

“You’re thinking pragmatic thoughts again, aren’t you, Fai?” Yerik remarked dryly.

Blinking away the lingering things that he couldn’t quite put away, Fai rolled his eyes.  “I’m just thinking that the two of you can give it some thought and figure out if there’s a better way to go about it,” he said instead.  “If you want to be assigned the task of hunting down the next of kin for everyone you hunt, then do let me know, Yerik,” he said.

Yerik grimaced, not that Fai could blame him.  After all, the very idea of having to deal with an unpredictable mate after just having to hunt their loved one?  No, Fai didn’t figure that Yerik wanted any part of that, either.

Letting out a deep breath, Yerik stood up.  “I’m a hunter, not a grief counselor,” he grumbled under his breath.  “And I’m exhausted, so if you have no more need of me, I’m going to go get some much-needed rest.”

“You do that,” Fai called after him.  “Don’t forget your report.”

Yerik lifted a hand to indicate that he’d heard him without deviating from his path as he headed for the door.

“I understand why things are done the way they’re done,” Saori said into the quiet that lingered in the wake of Yerik’s departure.  “I . . . I shouldn’t have said anything . . .”

“You know, I want you to speak your mind,” Fai remarked.  “And for the record, I do understand what the two of you were getting at—and I agree with you, too, at least, in theory.  The thing is, I don’t really believe that doing things differently would make that much of a difference.  People react to things in a million ways, so for every one person who might welcome the knowledge, even if it’s bad, there are others who may not want to be confronted with that kind of truth.”

“I suppose,” she said, but she still sounded dubious.  Pulling her feet up in front of her, propping her heels on the edge of the seat, her toes, wiggling in the confines of the pink socks on her feet.  There was something overwhelmingly cute about the pink sweats she wore, the gray and pink oversized sweatshirt . . . She reminded him of a child, playing in her father’s oversized clothing . . . Folding her hands atop of her knees, she propped her chin on her fingers and sighed.  “It’s still just sad to me . . .”

“Because you grew up on the fringes of the tai-youkai’s circle,” he concluded.  “You have an interesting point of view on things that many others haven’t ever stopped to consider.”

“Maybe . . . but even if I do, I really haven’t talked about it much.  I mean, it was always stuff that the men discussed behind the closed office doors while the women visited and laughed and played with the children . . .”

“Sounds entirely sexist,” he remarked, arching an eyebrow in such a way that it made her laugh.

“Not really,” she said.  “I mean, maybe, sort of . . . but then, it wasn’t like any of the women really showed any interest in sitting in on those meetings, either . . .”

“It can get pretty unpleasant, depending on what you’re discussing,” he mused.  “Can’t say I blame them for wanting to spare you women from the gory details.”

She let out a deep breath, but she did finally smile at him.  “I suppose you’re working again?” she mused, nodding at the stack of correspondence on his desk that he had yet to touch.  “I took a shower, and I meant to lie down a bit, but after that, I got my second wind, I guess you could say . . . so, I was wondering if you had the numbers of the other tai-youkai offices so that I could go ahead and call them?  See if there’s any interest in any of our children?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” he replied, digging around in one of the drawers to find his phone book.  “Here you go.  Let me know what they tell you.”

“I will,” she replied, flashing him a brilliant smile as she untangled her legs and leaned forward to retrieve the leather-bound book.  “I’ll update you over dinner—would that be all right?”

He chuckled.  “That’ll be fine, Saori.”

She nodded as she stood up and hurried out of the room, too.

Fai smiled as he watched her go, but that smile faded shortly after the door closed behind her.  Glancing at the clock, he slowly shook his head.  It was only noon now, which meant that dinner was hours away, and, unfortunately, he couldn’t think of a single reason why he should put off the work that was waiting for his attention.

Sometimes, he really hated his job.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Silent Reader ——— xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— Amanda Gauger ——— minthegreen
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** whisperingwolf
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _His mother’s room_ …?


	32. 031: Partners in Crime

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_31_** ~~  
~ ** _Partners in Crime_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“Hello, my name is Saori Senkuro, and I’m calling on behalf of the Asian tai-youkai’s office.  We are looking to place some of our orphans, and I wondered if there was any interest in your jurisdiction?”

“The Demyanov bid you call?” Eduardo St. George asked, his voice a very deep rumble, the sound of his very lyrical accent, almost enough to distract her— _almost_.  She’d heard her mother refer to him as the sex-bomb of the tai-youkai, and Saori pressed her lips together to keep from giggling outright since she also remembered well enough that her father wasn’t nearly as amused by Aiko’s observation of the man in question.  “Is there a certain child he is looking to place?”

Clearing her throat, thinking to herself that she was certainly glad that he couldn’t see her face or read her mind, given her wayward thoughts, Saori forced herself to focus on the topic at hand.  “Well, we have a number of them, actually, of varying ages and both boys as well as girls.  We have some difficulty in placing them here, so for the good of the children, Fai-sama asked me to see if any of the other jurisdictions had anyone seeking to adopt.”

“Sama?  You’re Japanese . . . Oh, wait, are you Aiko Senkuro’s relation?”

“She’s my mother,” Saori said.

St. George chuckled.  It was soft, breathy, almost a caress of a laugh, and even over the phone, she could feel the warmth of it as well as if she would have, had she been standing right there, talking to him in person.  “Ah, I see . . . and you’re working for the Demyanov, I take it.”

“That’s right,” she replied brightly, pressing a cool hand against her forehead, bemused when she realized that her skin was much warmer than it ought to have been.

He didn’t notice her preoccupation—thank kami . . . “Hmm . . . As it happens, I do have a few couples, looking to adopt, but I know that at least one of them is looking for an infant—preferably one that is closer to the parents in deviation.  They’re both eel-youkai, so they’re hoping to find some sort of aquatic child.”

She considered that and bit her lip as she shifted through the pile of biographies laid out on the table before her.  The home did have one—a seven-month-old boy—a moray-eel-youkai . . . “We actually do have one little boy: seven months old, a moray-eel . . .”

“Is that right?” St. George said.  “Good, good . . . Can you send me information on this child?  I’ll check with the others that I know are looking.  There’s a chance they may be willing to take an older child . . . We don’t tend to have very many children available for adoption in this jurisdiction—few enough that the demand can outweigh the need.  Feel free to send me information on all your children, if you wish.  I would be more than happy to call around—see if there are more families who would be interested.”

“That would be wonderful,” she agreed.  “I’ll include my information so that you can contact me . . . I’d be happy to provide any information you need.”

“Absolutely.  I look forward to working with you,” he said.

The connection ended, and Saori flopped back against the high-backed chair with a heavy sigh.

Glancing up from his tasks, Fai arched an eyebrow at her.  “Why do you look like you just had a bomb dropped on you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

‘ _That man’s voice is something like melted butter . . ._ ’ her youkai-voice remarked.

‘ _Oh . . . Oh, yes . . ._ ’

“Saori?”

“Hmm?”

Dropping the ink pen in his hand with a loud clatter, he sat back, folding his arms over his chest as he stared at her.  “Saori?”

“Y-Yes?” she stammered, unaccountably flustered as she sat up straight, tried to brush off the odd feelings of bemusement that lingered.

Fai snorted indelicately.  “You talked to St. George, didn’t you?”

“Wha—? Oh, um, uh-huh . . .”

Rolling his eyes, shaking his head, Fai looked even more irritated than he had before.  “Unbelievable.  I mean, in person, okay, but over the phone?”  He snorted again—louder this time.  “From now on, I’ll deal with him,” he stated.  “Don’t even think about—I’ll talk to him if he calls back.”

Saori’s mouth dropped open as she quickly shook her head.  “This is my job, Fai-sama,” she reminded him.  “You hired me for it, and—”

“—And Eduardo’s mother was rumored to be a siren, which I tend to think is true, given that I’ve seen what happens to entirely logical women—actually, men, too—around him, so if he calls back, don’t you dare answer your phone,” he commanded.

She burst into laughter, waving her hands as his expression grew darker.  “There’s no such thing as a siren!” she scoffed.  “That’s just a silly old tale!”

“Actually, it’s not,” he grumbled.  “Stop laughing; I’m serious.”

“But—But . . .”

Fai grunted.  “I’ve heard tale of it before.  There’s a group of youkai that live in the Pacific in one specific area.  Some call them mermaids.  Humans think they’re manatees.  They’re not.  They’re sirens, and they normally stay far, far away from everyone else.  Anyway, what I heard was that Eduardo’s father was on a ship that capsized, that she found him and, against her tribe’s wishes, bore him to land.  She fell in love with him and decided to live with him, but she rarely showed herself to anyone other than her mate, that she was afraid of what would happen if she tried to venture out in public.”

“Hmm . . .” Saori mused, “maybe I should go and look for more of them . . .”

“Don’t you dare,” he grumbled.

She blinked, stared at him for a long moment.  “Fai-sama?”

“What?” he growled, snatching up his pen once more, trying to focus on the papers he was looking over.

“Why are you upset?”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Hardly.  Awfully fickle, aren’t you?  Go around, kissing me, saying you want to . . . to sleep in my bed, and then deciding you need to go looking for a siren, just because you talked to the son of one of them on the phone . . .”

She giggled.  “I was teasing,” she insisted, hopping up out of her chair and rounding the desk.  When she tried to hug him, he shrugged his shoulders to warn her off, and that only made her laugh more.  “Just call it morbid fascination.”

That didn’t pacify him in the least as he lifted his bent arm to hold her at a distance.  “Go back over there, will you?  I’m busy.”

She sat on the corner of the desk.  He smacked her knee with the back of his hand, which only made her giggle once more, and that, in turn, drew a deep sigh from the Asian tai-youkai.  “Do you have a picture of him?” she asked in a very neutral tone of voice—she thought.

She could feel his gaze on her, even though he hadn’t turned his head.  “Of Eduardo St. George?  No.  No, I don’t, and even if I did, I don’t think I’d show you.”

“He sounds like the tall, dark, and handsome type . . .”

“Why are you interested?” he challenged.

“I’m not interested—I’m _curious_ , that’s all.”

He snorted yet again, shaking his head as he made a blatant show of trying to work.  “Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I’m a dog, huh?”

“I’m trying to work,” he told her.

Saori rolled her eyes and dug out her cell phone.

“What are you doing?”

“What?  Me?  What am I doing?  Nothing.”

Fai snorted, his hand flashing out to yank her phone out of her hand.  “You’re googling him!” he growled.  “Really?  You know, don’t you?  He’s married anyway.”

“Then there’s no harm in seeing what he looks like,” Saori insisted, reaching over to retrieve her phone.  Fai shot her a baleful look as he dropped the device into his pocket.  “Oh, come on!  Give that back!”

“Only if you swear you’re not going to try to google him,” Fai shot back.

She wrinkled her nose. “Kaa-chan said that he’s a sex-bomb.”

“Yep, not helping you get your phone back any time soon,” Fai maintained.

She tried to take a swipe at his pocket, but he turned his body to the side, neatly avoiding her grabby hand.  “But it’s my phone, and you told kaa-chan you wouldn’t try to keep me from talking to her—remember?”

His tone was a lot more tolerant than the expression on his face would otherwise suggest.  “I’m not keeping you from talking to her.  I’m keeping you from unnecessarily googling Eduardo St. George.”

“But—”

“Forget it, Saori.  You’re already the equivalent of the Russian princess of the bad ideas.  The last thing you need is any kind of encouragement.”

She smiled.  “I’m a Russian princess?”

“Nope, I said you’re the _equivalent_ of.  Huge difference.  _Huge_.”

She giggled once more, swiping at his pocket again, and missing again, too.

“I’m, uh, not interrupting, am I?”

Glancing over her shoulder as Yerik leaned into the office, Saori wiggled her fingers pleasantly.

“Good,” Fai said, standing up so abruptly that his chair slid back a few feet.  Then he grabbed Saori’s hand and pretty much dragged her over to his brother before shoving her against Yerik’s chest.  “Distract her, will you?” he ordered.

Yerik blinked but grasped Saori’s shoulders.  “Okay . . . What am I distracting her from?”

Fai grunted as he turned on his heel and stalked back over to his desk once more.  “Herself.”

Saori giggled as Yerik slowly shook his head, but steered her out of the room.  “Dare I ask what you did to get Fai so out of sorts?” he asked in the hallway, letting his hands drop away from her shoulders.

Saori grinned up at him.  “I talked to St. George-sama, and Fai-sama mentioned that he’s part siren . . .”

“Siren?  I don’t think . . . Well, I guess it’s possible.  I mean, it would explain a few things . . .”

“Things like what?”

Yerik shrugged.  “He came to visit a couple years ago—wanted to buy some vodka, if I remember right . . . Fai mentioned that all the women in the castle were acting all weird, trying to be the one to do things for him, almost coming to blows over simple tasks, like straightening his room . . .”

Saori nodded.  “Probably because his voice is dripping with melted butter . . .”

Yerik chuckled.  “Interesting way to put it.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to know what he looks like, and Fai-sama didn’t want me to google him . . .”

“I’ll bet he didn’t.  That aside, I thought you liked Fai well enough.  I mean, you _did_ kiss him,” Yerik replied.

The blush at that reminder was instant and excruciating as the blood rushed violently to her skin.  “I . . . I do like him,” she admitted, biting her lip, her gaze dropping to the floor.  “I don’t know why St. George-sama was so fascinating, not really . . .”

Yerik considered that, and then he nodded.  “I’ll buy that.  Even so, that had to be hell on his ego, don’t you think?”

She made a face.  “I wasn’t trying to do that . . . I was just surprised; that’s all.”  Turning to stare at the office door, she frowned.  “I should go apologize.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll live,” Yerik said.  “Besides, he told me to distract you.”

Saori sighed melodramatically.  “So, how are you going to do that?”

Before Yerik could answer, Vasili strode down the hallway toward them.  “My lord, pardon the interruption, but I wondered if you would be so kind as to hand over your bedroom key.”

Yerik stared at the butler for a moment before digging the key out of his pocket.  “You know, you really don’t have to straighten up my room.”

“It’s my job, my lord,” he replied.

“Except I can’t ever find things when you put them away,” Yerik countered.

“If I may say so, if you’d put your things away yourself, then it wouldn’t be an issue,” Vasili remarked.

Yerik rolled his eyes as the butler strode away.  Saori pinned Yerik with a questioning look, and Yerik made a face.  “He’s been like that since I was a child,” he said.  “Vasili has a very low tolerance for disorder.”

Her lips twitched.  “So, you lock him out of your room?”

To her amusement, Yerik blushed just a little.  “Sometimes,” he admitted.  “You know, I’ve often thought that he’d loosen up if he got laid.”

His bald statement was enough to make her blush, but she laughed.  “Well, if he had something else to distract him, then I guess he wouldn’t be as concerned with your room . . .”

“Nah, what he needs is for someone to jerk the stick out of his butt, if you ask me.”

Saori giggled.  “That sounds so wrong . . .”

Yerik shrugged.  “The truth usually is.”  Suddenly, he stopped, stared at her, a strange sort of expression brightening his gaze.  “Saori . . . How good are you at things like . . . practical jokes . . .?”

“Practical jokes?  I . . . I can’t say I’ve tried to pull them much,” she admitted.  “But if you tell me what to do, I could try to help . . .”

A rather calculating light filled Yerik’s eyes as he stared in the direction of the butler who had long since disappeared from view.  Then he chuckled, grabbing Saori’s hand and pulling her along behind him . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I may or may not post the first chapter of **Purity Redux: Anhanguera** at some point this weekend.  If I do, PLEASE read the forward note before continuing because that story, while a Purity Redux, is going to be vastly different from anything I’ve written in this storyline before.  Have a great weekend_!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
>  _** xSerenityx020 ——— Goldeninugoddess ——— Yashagirl89 ( _It’s lucky I saw your comment.  I normally don’t when people use that format to leave them lol!_ )
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
>  _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
>  _** Nate Grey
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _So, what are we doing_ …?


	33. 32: Quiet

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_32_** ~~  
~ ** _Quiet_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori yawned and opened her eyes, arching her back as she stretched her arms over her head, hands balled into fists as she savored the feeling of absolute comfort that cosseted her while she slowly climbed up through the gossamer layers of sleep that faded deliciously slowly.

She was alone in the bed, but still surrounded by Fai’s scent, and she smiled to herself as she rolled over, as she started to close her eyes, only to blink, to giggle softly when she spotted Fai, casually leaning against the tall, thick post at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over his chest, an inscrutable kind of expression on his face.  “Morning,” she breathed, moments before a wide yawn interrupted.

“Hmm,” he intoned.  “Sleep well, did you?”

“Mhmm,” she murmured, digging her arms up under her pillow, letting her eyes drift closed since the bed was far more comfortable than it ought to have been.

“Good, good,” he replied.  “Going back to sleep?”

“Mhmm . . .”

“Oh, then I suppose I shouldn’t disturb you, should I?”

She lifted a hand, fluttered her fingers rather vaguely in his general direction before stuffing them up under the pillow once more.

“Saori?”

“Hmm?”

“. . . What did you do yesterday afternoon with Yerik while I was working?”

That question was enough to make her eyes flash wide open, and she went still, biting her lip as she wondered if she pretended to be asleep, if he would buy into it.

He sighed.  “Saori, I know you’re not sleeping,” he pointed out.

Giving up with a heavy sigh, she rolled over and sat up, clasping her hands together in her lap as she waited for the proverbial gauntlet to fall.

Satisfied that he’d gained her full attention, Fai sighed and very deliberately shook his head.  “What did the two of you do to Vasili?”

“V-Vasili?” she echoed, trying her level best to look entirely innocent of whatever it was Fai seemed to suspect.

He wasn’t falling for it.  “Yes, Saori—Vasili.  What did you do to that old man?”

“Well, _I_ didn’t actually do anything, Fai-sama,” she protested, straightening her back, lifting her chin a notch.

“Are you going to blame the whole thing on Yerik?” he countered, raising an eyebrow again as he slowly shook his head.

“He did say that Vasili needed to get laid,” she pointed out reasonably.

Fai’s nostrils flared, but to his credit, he didn’t burst out in laughter, either.  “Something I don’t even want to think about,” he muttered instead.  “Saori . . . Vasili is an old and very respected member of this household.  The two of you very nearly gave him a heart attack this morning, when he turned on the television, only to see Janette Jugs and Juan Hugejuan, going at it in brilliant technicolor.”

Her lips twitched.  “You . . . knew their names, Fai-sama?” she asked as innocently as she could.

He snorted.  Loudly.  Shouldering himself away from the bed post he looked like he was struggling to hold onto his composure.  “Vasili told me, and no, I didn’t ask him how he knew their names, either.”

“You know, I tried to watch it yesterday, but I couldn’t get through the first five minutes,” she admitted.  “I mean, I tried, but—”

“You’re hurting my brain, Saori,” he interrupted, rubbing at his temples as he paced the length of the floor and back again.

“Yerik said that Vasili might loosen up if he got laid, so we thought that maybe, you know, a little, um . . . self-gratification?  That maybe it’d do the trick for him . . .”

Fai sighed.  “Saori . . . Let me explain this to you.  Vasili is old—very old.  He’s so old, in fact, that he might well have a heart condition or something that I don’t know about, and if you harass him in such a way, there’s a good chance that he could keel over, dead, and then you’d feel bad about that, wouldn’t you?”

She wrinkled her nose.  “He’s not that old,” she insisted.  “Ojii-chan is older than Vasili, and I don’t think it’s possible for a youkai to have a heart issue, hidden or otherwise.”

“You never know,” Fai insisted.  “Anyway, I want your word that you won’t ever, ever do something like that to him again.”

Saori rolled her eyes.  Then she giggled.  “Okay,” she agreed easily enough.  “But . . . did he look surprised?”

“Surprised isn’t exactly how I’d describe it,” Fai grouched.  “No more porn on the house television network.”

“Okay,” she said, flopping back into the softness of the bed.  “You know, though . . .”

Satisfied that she wasn’t going to continue to try to give poor Vasili a heart attack after all, Fai let out a deep breath and slowly sat down on the edge of the bed beside her.  “What’s that?”

“They were fake, weren’t they?” she blurted, cheeks pinking despite her desire to ask the question on her mind.

“What were?”

She wrinkled her nose.  “Her . . . Her breasts,” she forced herself to say.  “I mean, they had to be, didn’t they?  It’s not normal for those to be that big . . .”

Fai didn’t answer right away.  Coughing delicately into his balled-up fist, he cleared his throat.  “They . . . They come in all shapes and sizes, so I’d guess that they could have . . . have been natural,” he mused.  “Then again, in her case?  I can’t say for sure, no . . .”

She snorted, trying to burrow her face a little deeper into the pillow, stubbornly keeping her eyes closed.  “Do . . . Do men . . . prefer . . . breasts that big . . .?”

“We—I—That is to say, I’m not—N-Not all men, no,” he finally said.

She cracked one eye open, only to blink when she saw the ruddiness in his cheeks, even though he was staring off to the side, his expression distinctly uncomfortable.  “And . . . you . . .?”

“Me?” he blurted.  “Oh, uh . . . I-I-I don’t think . . . I mean, I don’t really have a . . . a preference . . .”

“You don’t?”

He sighed.  “Saori, can we drop it?”

She giggled, which might have had a lot to do with his obvious discomfort with the present topic at hand.  “Sorry,” she said, sounding anything but.  “Fai-sama?”

She heard him stifle a groan.  “Yes?”

Biting her lip, she leaned up on her elbow.  “That guy in that video . . . He was . . . well, _really_ big, you know, down there . . . Is that . . . normal?”

Shifting his gaze to the side—he didn’t turn his head—he looked like he was about to tell her that he didn’t want to talk about it.

She shrugged.  “I can’t help it.  I just . . . I can’t say I’ve seen many men like that . . . none, actually . . .”

He stared at her for a long second before slowly shaking his head.  “Like women, Saori . . . All . . . All different sizes.  Can’t say that I saw his penis, so . . .” He made a face.  “Anyway, I’m sure that he was neither the biggest guy, nor was he likely the smallest, either.”

He must have seen the wheels of her mind, turning, and he reached out with a sigh, covering her mouth with his hand as he deftly shook his head.  “Enough about that,” he told her.  “Now, either go back to sleep or get up, but we’re not talking about porn anymore.”  That said, he stood up and strode out of the room, and he didn’t look back at her, even when she erupted in a swell of giggles when the door closed behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

“Get your sword up, or I’ll hack you to bits,” Fai called, blocking Yerik’s attack with the side of his sword.  “What’s the matter?  Did you sleep in too late this morning?”

“Considering you were in my room, waking me up at the crack of dawn?  Hardly,” Yerik scoffed, flicking his wrist, spinning his blade with a deft motion.  “Is this your idea of punishment for the porn on the television this morning?”

“That would be entirely petty, don’t you think?” Fai countered, raining down a series of light taps that Yerik neatly blocked.  “By the way, Vasili wasn’t impressed.”

Yerik grinned.  “Saori made me do it.”

Fai rolled his eyes.  “Somehow, I doubt that,” he said, grimacing when Yerik caught the guard and very nearly succeeded in disarming him.  With a neat flick of his wrist, he unblocked the sword and caught it in his left hand without missing a beat.  “You’d really blame it all on her?”

“I figure you’d be more lenient with her,” he quipped.  “She’s cuter than I am, right?”

“Absolutely,” Fai shot back.  Dropping his sword into the scabbard on his hip, he caught a couple of the bow staffs on the nearby weapon rack and kicked them into the air.  He caught one in each hand and tossed one to his brother, who had just sheathed his own sword, too.  “She blamed you, by the way.”

Yerik chuckled.  “Did she?”

“And I’m inclined to believe her over you.  Leave that old man alone, Yerik.”

“All right; all right,” he relented despite the lingering amusement evident in his tone.  Then he cleared his throat.  “You know, they say that her uncle is the undisputed master of the halberd,” Yerik said as the two smacked the poles against each other, trying to disarm only.  “Honestly, I’d love to see her family’s skills, first hand.”

Fai gritted his teeth as Yerik managed to smash his fingers between the pole on a well-placed tap.  “I’ll ask if he gives seminars,” Fai said.

Yerik chuckled.  “If only it were that simple . . .”

“Oji-chan is very talented,” Saori remarked, using her hands to heft herself onto the wide stone fence nearby.  “He doesn’t really like fighting, but he can easily hold his own.”

“And your grandfather?” Yerik said, sounding a little distracted since the majority of his focus was on parrying Fai’s attacks.

Fai blocked neatly when Yerik tried to spin around, to catch him off-guard.  He’d learned long ago that, with poles, it was best to avoid any hits.  After all, even though the poles were blunt didn’t mean that being hit by one of them didn’t hurt—a lot . . .

“Ojii-chan?  What about him?”

“Is he really as tough as they say?” Yerik asked.

Saori laughed.  “Well, he _is_ Inu no Taisho . . . What do you think?”

“I can’t decide who I’d rather see in action: Sesshoumaru or InuYasha . . .”

Fai rapped Yerik on the knuckles, drawing a sharp breath from the younger Demyanov—a reminder that he needed to pay attention, Fai figured.  “Talk later, Yerik.  You’re losing focus.”

Yerik shoved against the staff, the wooden weapons groaning under the pressure.  Using the pole, he pushed off, flipped backward, landing neatly on his feet in a crouch as he spun around, kicking out at the same time, the staff whistling in the air.  Fai managed to hop back, out of the way just in time to avoid the weapon that he knocked away.

It flew out of Yerik’s grip, end over end until it clattered harmlessly to the ground.  Yerik stood up slowly, grinning widely at Fai.  “You win,” he said, conceding the match.

“That’s it?  You’re giving up that fast?” Saori blurted, sounding irritated enough by it that Fai glanced at her, only to do a double take at the pronounced frown on her face.  “How can you possibly be a hunter if you’re giving up so easily?”

Yerik blinked, looking almost as surprised as Fai was.  Holding up his hands, he shook his head.  “We were sparring to disarm,” he told her.  “Fai did, so he won.”

Saori snorted.  “Yes, but you were careless.  That’s why he was able to do that.  You can’t just swing that staff and think that you’re going to be able to keep a hold of it if he were to counter you, which he did.  It’s your job to make sure you always know exactly where your opponent’s weapon is at all times!  If you had, then you would have been able to easily counter him instead of losing to a simple flick of the wrist!”

Covering his mouth as he controlled the urge to laugh outright at the absolute shock on Yerik’s face, Fai watched in silence as Saori hopped off the wall and stomped over to retrieve the lost staff.  “If you had paid attention to what he was doing—to where he was—while understanding exactly what his reach is with his staff, you could have easily flicked yours upward at the end, which would have blocked him.  If you had given yours a little turn—” She demonstrated.  “—you would have disarmed him, instead.”  Then she thrust the staff into Yerik’s hand and stomped back over to the fence once more.  “Try again, hunter.”

Blinking as he turned to face Fai, Yerik slowly shook his head.  “She’s tough,” he muttered under his breath.

Fai chuckled and readied his stance, nodding once at Yerik to indicate that he was ready.  “Apparently so,” he replied.  “Apparently so . . .”

 

* * *

 

 

“I’ll ask Ben to look into it, to see if there are any families he knows of who are looking to adopt children,” Cain Zelig said in his usual thoughtful tone.  “He keeps track of stuff like that a little better than I do . . . although, Gin might know of someone, too.  Women talk . . .”

“That would be wonderful!” Saori exclaimed, hoping against hope that she’d be able to find placement for a few more children.  “I know that it’s harder since we have a number of older children, but . . .”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I think that we might well be able to help you out there, but I wondered . . . Have you considered talking to your . . . to InuYasha?  His school is capable of accepting boarding students, aren’t they?  Gin mentioned that he was looking into getting funding for a dormitory, right?”

“I hadn’t thought of that!” she said.  “Thanks for the suggestion, Zelig-sama.”

He chuckled.  “Any time, Saori.  I’ll talk to Ben and Gin and see if they know of anyone.  You’ll send me some files so I have information for anyone who might be interested?”

“I’ll do that,” she insisted.  “Thank you.”

“Any time.”

The call ended, and Saori giggled to herself.  Sure, it wasn’t a definite thing yet, but so far, all the tai-youkai she’d talked to had seemed very receptive to the idea of placing some of the Russian children in homes in their areas.

It didn’t take long to attach the orphans’ files to an email to send to Cain, and she sighed happily.  With any luck, she’d be able to find placements for most of the children under five, at least, which would be enough to take a good amount of pressure off of the orphanage overall, and if she could make arrangements with InuYasha, then maybe she could even get some of the older children into the Tokyo Academy, too . . .

The trill of her cell phone interrupted her planning, though, and she smiled as the name flashed on her caller ID.  “Kaa-chan!” she exclaimed softly when she connected the call via video feed.  “I just got off the phone with Zelig-sama about placing some of the orphans in his jurisdiction.”

“Oh?  Does he think he might have someone who is interested?” Aiko asked with a bright smile.  She looked like she was sitting in her office.

“He’s going to check, but he said he thought maybe there was at least one family who would be interested.  Hopefully, there’s more.  So far, I’ve called all the tai-youkai—well, except for MacDonnough-sama . . .”

Aiko made a face, her amber eyes clouding slightly at the mention of that name.  “I don’t know if you should try to approach him, Saori . . . He isn’t the most pleasant person, and I’m not sure he’d be open to working with you on this . . .”

She nodded.  To be honest, she’d already thought as much herself.  “Still, if there’s a chance he’d have a family or two . . .”

Aiko sighed.  “Maybe ask Fai-sama what he thinks?  If he has a decent relationship with MacDonnough-sama . . .”

“I will,” she promised.  “Zelig-sama suggested something, though, that I hadn’t thought of.  Do you think jii-chan would be interested in boarding a few of the older children at the Tokyo Academy?”

“Oh . . . That’s a really good idea,” Aiko allowed.  “Would you like for me to talk to him about it?”

“I can do it,” Saori insisted.  “I mean, it’s my job.”

“I guess I don’t need to ask you how you’re doing.  You look and sound very happy . . .”

“I am,” she agreed.  “I do miss you, though . . . Tou-chan and nii-chan, too . . .”

Aiko made a face.  “Yes, well, it was all I could do to convince them that they didn’t need to go, drag you right back home,” she admitted.  “Suffice it to say that they were a little less than impressed.”

“Thank you,” she said, unable to squelch the pang of guilt at the idea that her dear, sweet mother had been forced into the middle.  “I’m sorry, kaa-chan . . .”

Aiko laughed.  “Don’t worry, Saori—and I’m not the one you should thank.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope . . . They weren’t really interested in listening to me.  It was actually your grandmother who told them to settle down and to leave you alone.”

“Obaa-chan did that?”

Aiko nodded slowly.  “She did.  She threatened your father with her fans, actually . . .”

Saori giggled as the image of that sprang to life in her mind.  “Tell her I said thank you—and that I love her.”

“I’ll do that,” she promised.  “I’ve got a meeting here in a few minutes.  I just wanted to hear your voice, to see your face.  Give your father a call soon, please.  He misses you, too.”

“I will,” she promised.

The call ended, and Saori sighed as she dropped the phone into her pocket.  She had to admit, she’d been rather avoiding both her brother as well as her father, almost as though she was afraid of one of them, demanding that she come home.  Common sense told her that they wouldn’t really be able to do any such thing.  After all, she was a grown woman, even if they did forget that from time to time.  Even so . . .

‘ _It’s just because they’re concerned about you.  Thank kami your mother and your grandmother understand . . ._ ’

That thought, however, was enough to make her frown.  They understood?  But what, exactly, did they understand?  How could they understand when Saori herself didn’t fully comprehend it all?  Sure, it was simple to say that she’d come with Fai, just because he needed her for the job, but that wasn’t all of it.  She knew it.  The trouble was, putting a face on the rest of it—the things that spoke to her in whispers that were as fleeting as the breeze—and, try as she might, she still couldn’t quite make out the words . . .

‘ _One thing at a time,_ ’ she told herself brusquely.  Right now, the most important thing to her were the placements of the children.  It had to take precedence over everything else.  After that?  After that, she could try to figure things out . . .

Which, of course, led right back to the question regarding Ian MacDonnough.  She’d heard enough stories over time to know that there was a rather strained relationship between pretty much everyone and the European tai-youkai, and, having heard some of the stories about her second-cousin’s mate, Meara, who was MacDonnough’s daughter, Saori was pretty convinced that she didn’t want anything to do with the man, either.  Personal feelings aside, however, she couldn’t afford to be that picky, could she?  After all, the children’s needs had to come first, even if she had to admit that she felt more than a little reluctant about calling the man in question . . .

It was sound advice, though, from her mother.  She might as well go find Fai, ask him how his dealings were with MacDonnough.

Stepping out of the antechamber of the master suite that she had commandeered as her office for the duration, she hurried down the hallway, appreciating the understated elegance of the castle yet again.  It never escaped her, and she hoped it never would.

The place was silent, interrupted only by the tick of the grandfather clock in the foyer below.  The sound of it grew louder as she descended the stairs.  One of the maids that Saori hadn’t actually met smiled at her as she looked up from her task of dusting.  Saori smiled and ducked her head in passing as she headed down the hallway that led to Fai’s office.

The door was slightly ajar, but she still tapped on it.  From where she stood, she could feel the stranger’s youki, could hear his voice, though his words were slightly muffled . . .

“Come in,” Fai called.

She hesitated just a moment before pushing the door open wider, before stepping over the threshold, stopping just inside the room as the strange youkai slowly stood, slowly turned to face her.  He was some sort of bird youkai—a vulture, maybe?  She wasn’t sure, but the way he stared at her, the sudden flash of surprise in his golden-brown eyes, the hint of suspicion that she felt for only a moment before he carefully schooled it away . . . For some reason, he made her feel uncomfortable, though she couldn’t really say why that was.

Fai glanced at her before returning his attention to the stranger once more.  “Saori, this is Evgeni Feodosiv, an old family friend.  Evgeni, this is Saori Senkuro.  I hired her to help me find placements for some of the orphans.”

A slight narrowing of the eyes, a flare of an emotion that was gone before Saori could discern it . . . “Senkuro?  Is that Japanese?”

She nodded, her manners dictating that she offer the man a polite bow.  “That’s right,” she said, managing an uncertain little smile as she shot Fai a quick glance.

“The orphans,” Evgeni mused, sinking back down, summarily dismissing Saori, just like that.  “I see . . .”

Fai jerked his head to indicate that Saori should sit.  She slipped into the other chair, opposite the desk.  If he noticed anything amiss, she couldn’t tell.  Or maybe she’d simply misinterpreted the man’s aura . . .

“Is there something you needed, Saori?” Fai asked, holding up a finger to silence Evgeni as he turned his full attention to her.

She sat up a little straighter.  “I just . . . I wanted to ask you what kind of relationship if any you have with MacDonnough-sama?  He’s the only one I haven’t contacted yet, but I’ve heard that he’s a little . . . difficult to deal with at times,” she said.

Fai nodded.  “Well, that’s an understatement,” he muttered.  “What did the other tai-youkai say?”

“They all were receptive to the idea, and they offered to look into it, see if they had families looking to adopt.”

“Call him.  If he is willing to listen, then it’s fine.  If he’s not, then at least you tried.”

“All right,” she agreed, standing up once more.  Fai stood, too.  Evgeni didn’t.

“Aren’t you worried that reaching out for help in this might make you look like you cannot handle Asia’s problems?” Evgeni remarked rather casually.

“Actually, I don’t,” Fai replied.  “I’d hardly call, trying to place these children into homes of their own is showing any kind of weakness.”

“Your Grace—”

“It’s not your call, Evgeni,” Fai cut in.

Saori bit her lip.  “I’ll, um . . . I’ll go make that call then,” she said, pasting on a bright smile that she hoped was enough to convince them that she didn’t notice the sudden contention that hung thick in the air.

“Whatever you say, Fai,” Evgeni said.  “Nice to meet you, Saori.”

She nodded and hurried out of the office, her smile fading as she escaped into the hallway once more.  To be honest, Saori wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it; not really.  That sudden tension . . . Was it something that happened a lot between those two?  And if it did . . . But Fai said that Evgeni was an old family friend . . . Maybe she was reading too much into it, letting her imagination run away with her again.  After all, Fai wouldn’t allow anyone near him that couldn’t be trusted, now would he?

Even so, she reasoned, her family was tight-knit, and they had disagreements from time to time, too.  Maybe it wasn’t so strange . . .

Still, she hadn’t imagined that tension; she knew she hadn’t.  Just . . . Just what was it . . .?

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _What was that_ …?


	34. 33: Rainclouds

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_33_** ~~  
~ ** _Rainclouds_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“I have it on good authority that it’s simply a matter of time before Konstantin Korinovich issues a formal challenge.”

Fai nodded slowly and without looking up from the report he was reading through.  It was from his old master, Ling, who had been keeping an eye on a couple of snub-nose-monkey-youkai in China who were rumored to be behind a recent rash of killings in and around Beijing.  So far, they’d been keeping a low profile, and there hadn’t been any other attacks since Ling and his men had been watching.  He had ended the update just by saying that he would continue to monitor them.

“If he hasn’t issued a formal challenge, then it is of no interest to me,” Fai said in a rather flat tone of voice.

Evgeni sighed.  “I worry that your lack of concern is going to be your undoing, Fai.  Surely you must understand that allowing things like this to drag on only looks bad on you . . .”

Flicking his gaze up from the report, Fai slowly let the paper drop from his fingertips.  “I know well enough, how things reflect upon me,” he said.  “It really doesn’t matter, what I choose to do or not to do, people will think what they will think; they’ll say what they will say.  Those who wish to find fault with my tenure, will, and those who are content will be that, too.  Tell me, Evgeni, should I change the things that I was taught by the previous tai-youkai to accommodate the things that you think I should do instead?”

Evgeni had the grace to flush slightly at the very obvious set-down.  Shifting in his seat, he pasted on a very perfunctory little smile—the kind, practiced over years and years, to diffuse this kind of situation, Fai supposed.  “My only concern is that you will make things tougher for yourself than you need to,” he replied.  “I only want you to be seen as the great leader you are; nothing more, nothing less.”

“I will deal with him if and when he chooses to bring his complaints to me,” Fai reiterated.  “By the way, have you found out anything regarding the freeze that was placed on my accounts?”

Settling back in his seat, steepling his fingers together before him, Evgeni slowly shook his head.  “There didn’t appear to be anything amiss with it,” he said.  “Standard protocol when the account holder cannot be reached to verify a transaction.  In any case, there was a slight hiccup, owed to a random computer glitch, but it was resolved in a timely manner . . . Would you like me to open a formal inquest?  I doubt anything would come of it, but . . .”

Fai didn’t look entirely pleased with the news, but he shook his head.  “No . . . Can you just take care to make sure it doesn’t happen again?  Not being able to pay for common services does not reflect well upon the tai-youkai.”

“Of course,” Evgeni replied.  “Oh, I also meant to talk to you regarding the Kupala Night celebration.  You’ll attend, won’t you?”

“Kupala Night,” he repeated.  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Pleased by Fai’s response, Evgeni’s smile broadened.  “And Lord Yerik?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t miss it,” Fai said, knowing that there was a good chance he was going to have to browbeat his brother into compliance.  It wasn’t that Yerik objected to the holiday or the formal ball that was always thrown in the evening.  What he tended to hate was the way the younger women tended to leer at him, and rather shamelessly, at that.

“Good, good . . . And you’ll be arriving before the festivities, I gather?”

Fai nodded.  Given that Evgeni tended to stretch the affair into at least a couple of days before, it was always a fairly interesting event, at least.

“Friedrich Gottholt called me the other day to say that he’d be able to make it.  Said he’d be bringing his mate and daughter, as well—you know, the one they say is one of the most beautiful girls in the world?”

“If it’s not a problem, I’ll be bringing Saori with me,” Fai said, completely discounting Evgeni’s statement regarding the Gottholt daughter.

“Her?  You’re bringing along an employee?”

“She’s a little more than a simple employee,” Fai remarked.  “Anyway, I think she’d enjoy the festivities.  Unless it’s a problem?  If that’s the case, then I’ll have to decline the invitation.”

A thoughtful scowl drew Evgeni’s eyebrows together, his lips pursing as he considered his options.  “Well, it’s not that.  If you wish to bring her, then, by all means, do so.  It just surprised me; that’s all.”

“Then I’ll look forward to it.”

Evgeni’s smile resurfaced, and he hauled himself out of the chair.  “I’ll see you then—unless something comes up in the interim.”

Fai watched his advisor go before reaching for another report.

 

* * *

 

 

Jogging along the perimeter of the vast Demyanov estate, Yerik dropped to a slow walk as he neared the small stream and the thick trees.  He’d taken it upon himself to do this whenever he was home—to check the borders for any sign of something amiss.  So far, he’d never actually found anything, and he didn’t expect that it would be any different today.  When he was a child, maybe around ten, he’d thought up the border patrol, and even though it sounded silly now, thinking back, it was something small he felt he could do for his brother.

Of course, if he had found someone, skulking about in the shadows, there really wasn’t a thing he could have done about it back then.  That idea hadn’t occurred to him, though.  Years ago, he had thought that he was keeping Fai safe.  It was a silly notion, sure, but it had made him feel as though he was doing something for Fai, even if he really wasn’t.

Now, it was just a habit.  Even though there were some who felt as though Fai had no right to hold his office, it was telling that not one of them had ever tried to infiltrate Demyanov land, either.

Stepping into the cover of the thick trees, Yerik sighed, unsure why he felt so on edge.  To be honest, he’d felt that way all day, even if there wasn’t a real reason for it.  It was more of a feeling on the fringe of his consciousness that unsettled him, even if he couldn’t quite put his finger on why that was.

And strangely, that feeling slowly seemed to grow—a strange sense that something was just a little off—not a threat, per se.  He didn’t sense anything quite like that . . . But he wasn’t sure, what he was feeling, either, and that was enough to bring his hand up, resting casually on the hilt of his sword as he deliberately slowed his pace.

A dull ‘thump’ sounded behind him, and Yerik spun around, only to blink, eyes widening, as he came face to face with the being who had apparently dropped out of the trees.  Had he been up high enough to keep his youki from being discerned?  Yerik suspected that he’d done exactly that . . . Arms crossed over his chest, a foreboding scowl on his face as long, silvery hair blew around him in the breeze—a breeze that had carried the man’s scent away well before Yerik could discern it—and he didn’t blink as he slowly sized Yerik up, small, triangular hanyou ears, twitching and rotating like tiny radars atop his head . . . He narrowed his golden eyes as he let his gaze rake over Yerik, only to snort loudly and indelicately when he saw his hand, wrapped around the hilt of his sword.  “If I wanted to hack you up, I’d have done it by now, pup,” he growled in English.  “If you’re gonna draw, do it now.  Otherwise, get your damn hand away from that before you get yourself killed.”

Yerik shook his head, but let his hand drop away.  “. . . InuYasha?”

He snorted again.  “Yeah.  Who are you?  Well, aside from the poor bastard, what got bawled out by my niece earlier . . .”

“Ah . . .”  Snapping his mouth closed, he couldn’t help the grin that surfaced on his face.  “That was just sparring,” he replied.

“Keh!  Ain’t no such thing as, ‘just sparring’!  Don’t waste your fucking time if you’re not gonna take it fucking seriously.”

“Oh, c’mon, oyaji . . . He wasn’t that bad.”

Yerik blinked, his head tilting back when he spotted the second hanyou, high in the trees.  Very obviously one of InuYasha’s kin . . . “You’re . . . Ryomaru, the hunter . . .”

The one in the tree, leaning casually against the stout trunk, legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest in much the same stance as his father on the ground, Ryomaru grinned.  “Oh, so you’ve heard of my prowess, have you?” he nearly gloated.

Yerik chuckled.  “Actually, I have,” he admitted.  “I’m Yerik Demyanov—Fai’s my brother, and I’m a hunter, too.”

InuYasha snorted.  “Keh!  Prowess, my ass!  Weren’t you the one who had to call me for backup the last time Toga sent you out?”

Ryomaru rolled his eyes, but his grin widened.  “What did you expect?  There were twenty of them!”

“Keh.”

Dropping out of the tree, Ryomaru chuckled.  “So, you’re a hunter, eh?  You any good?”

“I’m still alive,” Yerik remarked.

“That don’t mean much, depending on your targets,” Ryomaru pointed out.

Yerik sighed.  “I can hold my own.  Anyway, why are you here . . . and why are you skulking around the grounds?”

“Just making sure that your brother don’t get any weird ideas about locking Saori up again,” Ryomaru remarked when InuYasha scowled stubbornly and refused to answer.

Yerik frowned, shifting his gaze between the two hanyou.  “You know, you could stay in the castle . . .”

“Uh, no . . . jiji wanted us to stay out of it,” Ryomaru went on.  “Said not to let her know we’re here . . . He figured that if your brother was gonna try to put her on lockdown, he won’t do it if he knows we’re nearby, so if you’d be so good as to not tell ol’ Fai-sama . . .”

“You don’t want him or Saori to know you’re here,” Yerik repeated.  “Well, I guess that makes—Wait . . .”

Ryomaru blinked.  “Wait, what?”

Scratching his chin as he debated his options, Yerik finally grinned.  “Well, you know, I could try to keep your secret, sure, but sometimes things slip . . .”

InuYasha and Ryomaru exchanged suspect glances.  “Meaning, what, exactly?” Ryomaru demanded, the air around him shifting just as quickly as water, flowing around a boulder.

Yerik took a step back, realizing a second too late that he actually felt intimidated by the hanyou—by both of them.  “I just mean . . . Maybe if you both could . . . could teach me some things . . .”

The menace in Ryomaru’s youki dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, and Yerik grimaced inwardly.  “Oh, that?  I dunno . . . You think he can handle it, oyaji?”

InuYasha grunted.  “Keh!  After that bullshit earlier?  Damn well better teach him a thing or two . . .”

Yerik broke into a wide grin as InuYasha stalked off, deeper into the cover of the trees.

 

* * *

 

 

“MacDonnough.”

Biting her lip at the very brusque voice that answered the call after two rings, Saori drew a quick breath.  “Hello, MacDonnough-sama.  I apologize for the interruption; I know you’re a very busy man.  I’m Saori Senkuro, and I’m calling on behalf of Faine Demyanov, the Asian tai-youkai.  I am working with him to find international placement for some of our orphans and was wondering if you have anyone in your jurisdiction who would be interested in adopting any of our children?”

“You’re calling on behalf of Faine Demyanov?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me, am I not important enough to your tai-youkai for him to have made this call himself?”

Blinking at the understated hostility in the MacDonnough’s voice, Saori wasn’t sure what to say.  “Well, you see, he put me in charge of this, and—”

“And who are you to call me?  If Demyanov needs something from me, then he knows how to reach me.  As for your orphans?  Is he so inept that he cannot look after his own?”

“No, that’s—”

“As you pointed out, I’m a busy man.  I don’t have the time for this.  Tell your tai-youkai that we’re not interested in his cast-offs.  Good day.”

The line went dead, and Saori flopped down hard in the chair directly behind her.  Something about the unpleasantness of the man seemed to reach right through the connection, right into her, leaving her feeling weak in the knees with a decidedly nauseas feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she grimaced, swallowing hard to bite back the rise of bile in her throat.

‘ _He . . . He’s not very nice . . ._ ’

‘ _You knew that already.  Everyone’s said as much . . . Maybe_ he _needs to get laid . . ._ ’

Wrinkling her nose at her youkai’s attempt at humor, Saori let out a deep breath.

It was hard to fathom, wasn’t it?  Having grown up, knowing and adoring Morio’s mate, Meara, she couldn’t quite understand just how Meara had grown up around such a venomous being.  She was sweet and kind and gentle—obviously traits she didn’t inherit from her father.  But then, Saori had heard the stories, too—the reasons why Morio and Meara had settled in Japan, why they never went back to her homeland . . .

‘ _It’s awful . . . No one else thought it was odd that I was calling for Fai-sama . . . It’s almost like he was looking for a reason to be nasty . . ._ ’

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door to the antechamber opened, and Fai stepped inside.  He started to smile at her, but stopped when he got a good look at her face, frowning instead as he approached her.  “What’s wrong?” he asked, touching her arm as he knelt before her.

She opened her mouth to tell him, but somehow, she couldn’t.  At least, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him all of it.  He already had so much to deal with, so many things that required his attention . . . Telling him how Ian MacDonnough had treated her?  Somehow, it felt akin to childish tattling . . . “It’s nothing,” she assured him, managing a very convincing smile.  “I called MacDonnough-sama.  He said that he didn’t think they had anyone interested in adopting.”

Fai nodded, his unruly chestnut hair, falling into his eyes.  “That’s not surprising,” he said.  “Hopefully, we’ll be able to place enough of them otherwise that it won’t matter.”  Letting his hand fall away from her, only to dangle between his spread knees, Fai stared at her.  It wasn’t exactly an amused expression on his face, no, but there was a certain brightness in his gaze, a distinct steadiness that held her, spellbound.  “You’re doing a good job so far,” he told her quietly, his voice sounding more like a caress than a statement.  “I appreciate your efforts.”

She couldn’t help the surge of shyness that coursed through her, causing her to duck her chin, to peer up at him through her lashes.  “I haven’t done much yet,” she corrected him.  “Just called the other jurisdictions . . . I hope that they call back soon . . .”

“They will,” he assured her.

A funny little feeling erupted in her belly—the kind of tremors that were as unsettling as they were enticing.  A strange kind of brightness ignited behind his gaze, his eyes narrowing as he gently reached out, lifted her chin with a crooked index finger.  For a long moment, she held her breath as he stared hard at her lips.  Suddenly, though, he cleared his throat, let his hand drop away as he turned his face to the side, and she stifled a sigh.  “Anyway, I came up here to ask you . . . You didn’t bring anything along that is appropriate for a formal ball, did you?”

She blinked and shook her head.  “Uh, no . . . I mean, I have some gowns at home, but—”

“That’s fine,” he told her.  “We’ve been invited to Evgeni’s Kupala Night ball.  It’s fairly formal, so if you need to find a dress, I wanted to allow you adequate notice.”  He sighed.  “Come to think of it, you may need one formal gown and a couple other nicer outfits, too.  The celebration usually lasts more than just one night, so . . .”

“It sounds like a big deal.”

He shrugged.  “Not really . . . Actually, my parents used to host something like it every year.  It never occurred to me to reinstate the tradition, I guess, and then, Evgeni decided to do it . . .”

The reminder of the strange youkai she’d met in Fai’s office made her frown.  He didn’t see it, which was just as well.  She couldn’t quite shake off the strange sort of vibes she’d gotten from him, but she tried to brush them off.  After all, he was one of Fai’s trusted friends, wasn’t he?  And Fai was shrewd enough, not to trust without reason.  Besides, she had only met the man for a few minutes, so really, she had nothing to base her feelings on, anyway . . .

“I can pay for your clothing,” Fai went on, oblivious to Saori’s thoughts.

“I have money,” she replied.  “It’ll be harder to figure out where to go shopping, I think . . .”

Fai shrugged.  “Ask Yerik.  He tends to know more about that sort of thing than I do.”

“Oh?  But where do you go shopping?”

Bracing his hands on his knees to push himself to his feet once more, Fai stepped over to check the thermostat.  “I try not to,” he admitted.  “When I need clothes, I call my tailor.  I doubt he knows much about women’s fashion, though.”

She nodded, reaching for the stack of files on each of the children, figuring she could at least put in a bit more work in making their information more complete.  Some of them only listed the bare minimum.  Adding notes, like hobbies and abilities could only help in the long run.  “I’m sure I can find something suitable.”

He watched her for a minute, but he didn’t say anything.  She glanced over at him, only to find him staring at her with a very thoughtful scowl on his face.  “Fai-sama?”

He rolled his eyes.  “I thought I told you, you can drop the, ‘-sama’.”

She smiled.  “It’s polite,” she told him.  “I can’t help it.”

He grunted, reaching for the door handle.  “I’m going to stop answering you when you use it,” he warned.

She giggled as he slipped out of the room, but his youki lingered in the air long after he’d closed the door . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_(Ivan) Kupala Night_** _: Celebrated on the night of July 6th.  It is a midsummer celebration that tends to focus on water (fertility and, in Christian celebrations, rebirth in Christ.).  It is usually preceded the night before by Tvorila night (the night of good humor mischiefs)_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from Yerik**_ :  
>  _Hot damn_!


	35. 34: Comprehension

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_34_** ~~  
~ ** _Comprehension_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori tapped on the office door and waited until Fai invited her inside before turning the knob and crossing the threshold.  Leveling a no-nonsense frown at him, she crossed her arms over her chest and slowly shook her head.

Fai blinked and arched an eyebrow at her, setting aside the missive in his hand to give her his full attention.  “Something on your mind?” he asked.

She shrugged.  “I just wondered if you’d seen Yerik today.”

He shook his head.  “No.  He was still sleeping when I got up.  Why?”

Her frown deepened.  “He’s acting strange.”

“Strange?  How so?”

She wrinkled her nose, letting her arms drop to her sides as she sank down in a chair opposite him.  “Like he’s . . . hurting . . . or something, but when I asked him, he said he was fine.”  She leaned forward, her hands slapping down on the top of the desk.  “He’s not fine, Fai-sama . . . He’s shuffling around like . . . like an old man!”

Fai shook his head.  “Well, as much as I’d love to go check up on him, I can’t.”

She stared at him.  “You . . .? Why can’t you?”

Fai settled back in his chair.  “Because you called me, ‘-sama’.”

Snapping her mouth closed, Saori shot to her feet, scowled at the stubborn and incomprehensible man.  “Because . . .? Have you lost your mind?  He’s your brother!  Don’t you care?”

“If he were having that much trouble, he’d have told me,” Fai insisted.  “Even then, I’m sure he’ll be fine.  He’s youkai, just like us, remember?  Anyway, if you’re that worried about him, I could go find him, see what’s wrong, but . . .”

She rolled her eyes since she had a feeling that she knew where he was heading with this.  “Oh, for the love of kami . . . _Fai_ , will you please go see if he’ll tell you what’s wrong?” she forced herself to ask in as nice of a tone as she could muster.

He chuckled, which just figured, but he did push himself to his feet and stride around the desk.  “Okay,” he told her.  “Stay here, and I’ll be right back.”

Stepping into the hallway, heading for the foyer and the stairs, he located Vasili and motioned him over.  “Do you know where Yerik is?” he asked without preamble.

The old butler gave a curt nod.  “I believe he retired to his room, Your Grace.”

Fai nodded and headed up the stairs.

He really wasn’t sure what he was expecting as he pushed Yerik’s door open and stepped inside.  Maybe Yerik, grasping furniture to propel himself around his room, if what Saori had said was to be believed.

Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes lit on his brother—or, more to the point, his brother’s back—Fai uttered a harsh invective as he stomped over to yank the shirt that Yerik was trying to pull over his head, out of his hands.  “What the hell happened to you?” he demanded, glowering at the angry bruise that traversed the whole of Yerik’s back from shoulder blades to his waist and below.  He couldn’t see past Yerik’s waistline, but he didn’t have to.  The mottled flesh he could see was more than enough.

Grimacing as he turned at the waist to snatch his shirt back, Yerik grunted.  “I’m fine,” he insisted.  “Just . . . fell down.  No big thing.”

Fai crossed his arms over his chest and snorted.  “Fell down?  If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable, Yerik.  Truth.  Now.”

Yerik rolled his eyes, leveling a flat kind of look at his older brother, his “I told you, Fai.  It’s fine.  Well, it’ll be fine.  Don’t worry about it.”

“Maybe, except Saori’s concerned.  Do you think she’ll buy the, ‘I fell down,’ defense?”

Yanking his shirt down, Yerik sighed.  “Just tell her I’m fine,” he said, “because I am.  Anyway, don’t the two of you have better things to talk about than me?”

“Maybe, but she likes you, and since she likes you, she worries about you.  It’s perfectly natural, you know.  Anyway, you’re going to tell me what really happened.”

Digging at his scalp with both hands, Yerik tried to stomp over to the window, but his movements were hindered by the huge bruise on his back.  ‘ _Yep, definitely a little old man . . ._ ’ Fai mused as he watched his amended gait.

“If you must know, I was sparring with someone, and I wasn’t fast enough in getting out of the way.  That’s all.”

“You weren’t?” Fai blurted before he could stop himself.  Yerik, on a whole, tended to be a little faster on his feet than he was, so it was surprising to him.

“Yes.  I told you, it’s no big thing.”

Fai grunted since he didn’t really buy into that, either.  “What did he hit you with?  A house?”

“It looks worse than it is.”

Fai shook his head.  “Who were you sparring with?”

“No one you know.  Anyway, I’m going to run into the village—buy some Epsom salts and stuff.  You need anything?”

Fai shook his head, frown deepening as he watched Yerik march past him.

‘ _Well, that was weird._ ’

‘ _What?  That he took a hit or that he’s not interested in telling you about his mysterious sparring partner?_ ’

‘ _. . . Both._ ’

His youkai-voice sighed.  ‘ _Yeah, but you also know well enough that if Yerik doesn’t want to tell you something, he won’t._ ’

Pivoting on his heel, Fai headed for the door, too.  He wasn’t done interrogating Yerik by any means, but he supposed it could wait until after he got back from the village . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Tapping her pen against the tablet in her lap, Saori flipped through the website tabs that she’d opened to compare a few dresses that she’d found.  She’d almost chosen one of them, but then, her mother had called, and she’d suggested that Saori look up the holiday to make sure that whatever she chose fit the occasion.  Given that the holiday seemed to have overtones of religion, at least, in some regions, as well as the base sense of summer celebration and aquatic themes, she’d decided that the gown she’d originally favored—a black chiffon and silk creation—wasn’t really right for it.

‘ _Many of the rites related to this holiday are rooted within Slavic religious beliefs—the ancient Ivan Kupala rites—and are connected deeply to the role of water in fertility and ritual purification_ ,’ she read before clicking on the next tab: a lovely light aqua blue gown that was floor length in the back, should just hit her legs above the knees in the front, with cascades of sheer organza over a closer fitting satin sheathe dress.  The bodice was a sweetheart neckline that would hug her upper body to just below the breasts in a modified empire waistline with spaghetti straps that attached to organza sleeves that belled out around the upper arms in a flowery kind of flow, and she’d found it on a website for a store less than an hour away.  There were a couple other gowns she liked, too, but this was the one she liked best, and she’d already called them to ask that they hold the dress in her size until she made it there to try it on . . .

Writing down the address and phone number of the store, she bit her lip and smiled to herself.  She’d tried to find a dress where the model looked roughly like her shape, so she was reasonably certain that the dress would look fine on her.  Even so, seeing a dress in an ad was one thing.  Seeing it in person and trying it on was oftentimes something entirely different.

The trill of her cell phone interrupted her musings, and she quickly set the laptop computer on the table before reaching for the device.  The number that appeared on her caller ID didn’t have a name listed, and she frowned as she connected the call.  “Senkuro,” she said, catching it between her ear and shoulder with her head tilted to the side so she could set aside the pad and pen before catching the phone in her hand as she rose to her feet.

“Ah, is this _Senhorita_ Saori with the Russian orphans?”

“Oh, um, yes . . .”

He chuckled.  “This is Eduardo St. George . . . I wished to speak with you regarding the children.  It is a good time, no?”

“St. George-sama!  Yes, it’s an excellent time!” she blurted, dropping back into the chair and scrambling to grab her abandoned tablet off the table.  “I wasn’t expecting to hear back from you so soon . . .”

Again, that chuckle that seemed to glide right over her like a silk sheet against bare skin.  “Please, Saori—may I call you by your first name?”

“What?  Oh, y-y-y-yes . . .”

“Very good.  Saori, please, do me the honor of calling me simply, ‘Ed’ . . . ‘Eduardo’, if you must, but you need not stand upon formality with me.”

She giggled.  She couldn’t help it.  Fanning her face with the tablet of paper, she could only be glad that the man couldn’t see her face.  “Did you get a chance to ask around?”

“I did,” he replied.  “I talked to my generals, and I’ve talked with four families who are very interested.  I took the liberty of sending them information on children that met their descriptions of what they would like to have . . . I hope that I wasn’t too presumptuous . . .”

“Four?” she repeated.  “Wow, that’s wonderful!”

“I took the liberty of emailing you the files on the families, along with notes about the children they’re interested in opening their homes to.”

“That’s wonderful,” she said.  “I’ll go over them with Fai-sama, and then I’ll get back to you.”

“Very good,” he said.  “I look forward to hearing from you again.”

“M-Me, too,” she managed.  Then she hung up the phone with a high-pitched squeal of happiness.

It only took a few minutes to send the documents from her computer to a slim-file that she grabbed as soon as the files transferred.  With another giddy laugh, she scurried out of the door and down the hallway, taking the stairs two at a time and grabbing the newel post to swing herself around, catapulting herself down the short hallway to Fai’s office.

“Fai-sama!  Oh, it’s fabulous news!” she blurted as she burst through the doors, not stopping till she caught herself against Fai’s desk.

He looked up at her rather slowly, arching an articulate eyebrow in silent question as he set aside the paperwork he was looking over.  “It’d better be,” he warned dryly, leaning back in his chair.

She giggled and hurried around the desk to slip the slim-file into his hands.  “Eduardo-sama called.  He has four potential families who are interested in our children!”

“Eduardo-sama?” he echoed, ignoring the file as he narrowed his eyes on her.  Certainly, he called most everyone by their given names, but that was standard for Russians, on a whole.  It was actually considered rude to use one’s surname, but he also realized that Saori, having been raised in Japan, was used to using surnames as a show of respect.  “You call him by his first name?”

“Yes, he insisted.”

Fai snorted, eyes narrowing dangerously.  “Is that right?”

She blinked when he dropped the file on the desk and leaned forward to grab his phone.  “What are you doing?”

He spared her a rather dark look.  “What does it look like? I’m calling, ‘Eduardo- _sama’_.  I think he needs to be reminded that he’s very, very married.”

She shook her head.  “What?  But—But he didn’t—”

“And _you_ . . .” He snorted.  Loudly.  “You don’t need to be so happy, just because he called you back.  Unless you’d rather go . . . _appropriate_ him . . .”

A strange suspicion occurred to her, and she sat down on the edge of his desk, only to reach over and neatly pluck the phone out of his hand.  “Fai-sama?”

“What?”

Pressing her lips together to keep from laughing outright at the very surly tone in his voice, she cleared her throat.  “Are you . . .?  You’re not . . . That is to say, you almost sound . . . but that would be silly . . . If you were . . . jealous . . . Are you?”

He blushed.  He actually blushed.  As he opened his mouth and snapped it closed a few times, he blushed.  “What?  No!  _No!_   Jealous?  _Ha!_   Why the hell would I be jealous?  For starters, he’s _married_ , which means he has a _mate_ , which means that there’s nothing to be _jealous_ of, and even if I were, which I’m _not_ , then why on earth would I—?”

She giggled.  “You’re really, really cute when you’re blustering,” she told him.

He snapped his mouth closed once more, nostrils flaring slightly, pushing her hip until she slipped off the desk.  Then he stood up and stomped over to the wet bar to slosh vodka into a clean glass.  “I was _not_ blustering,” he growled, his voice muffled slightly by the glass he’d tilted to his lips.

“Okay, you’re not,” she agreed.

He snorted again.  “I’m not.”

She nodded quickly and way too exuberantly.  “I know . . . Anyway, I thought you and I could go over the files he sent of the families that want to be evaluated for consideration.”

He grunted and dumped more vodka into the glass.  “Why not call him back and let him go over their applications with you?” he grumbled.

She sighed despite the amusement still evident on her face.  “You know, I don’t even know what he looks like—you wouldn’t let me google him.  Even then, I . . . I _might_ like . . . someone else . . . a little more than him . . .”

“Anyone I know?” he half-growled.  “Let me guess: Yerik.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed the slim-file before stalking over to grab Fai’s hand and drag him over to the sofa.  “Yerik-kun’s very cute in a little puppy kind of way,” she mused, tugging on his hand until he finally sat down with her.  Then she let go and opened the file.  “Oh, this is the couple who are interested in adopting the seven-month-old moray-eel-youkai, Viktor . . .”

“His parents died in a . . . a house fire, right?”

She nodded, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.  “Yes . . . The Santiago family wants him—they’re eel-youkai, too, so that would be a great fit . . . Mari is a medical researcher, and Luca works in the office of the tai-youkai—one of his generals, it seems.  According to this, they’re looking to adopt a child because Mari had some issues during her last pregnancy, so they don’t want to put her through that again . . .”

“A general?  I guess that would be suitable,” Fai muttered almost grudgingly.  “I thought I told you not to take Eduardo’s calls and to refer him to me.”

She wrinkled her nose, only paying a little attention to him since she was still skimming the dossier.  “His name didn’t show up on my caller ID, and it’s fine.  I enjoyed talking to him.”

Fai snorted.  “I know.”

Flipping the file page, she blinked, then smiled.  “This couple is interested in adopting Galinia!  They’re a lesbian couple—one of them is from Ukraine . . . A lawyer and a social worker . . . It says here that they were sent Galinia’s profile, and it was love at first sight . . .”

“A social worker and a lawyer?  Good, good . . . Saori, if possible, I’d like for these families who are interested to come here, to meet the children before any real decision is made.”

She nodded.  “I think that could be arranged.  I mean, the happiness of the children should be taken into account, and just because they look good on paper doesn’t mean they’re necessarily the right fit . . . Now, the next woman—Oh . . . She isn’t mated.  She just wants a child . . . Interesting . . .”

Fai sighed.  “Saori?”

“Do you think that’ll be an issue?  I mean, a two-parent family might be more stable, but—”

“Saori . . .”

“—Then again, maybe not.  I mean, on paper, maybe, but in reality, who’s to say that a child _needs_ to have two parents to thrive?  If you think about it—”

“Saori.”

“—Maybe it’s not . . . Yes, Your Grace?” she asked, cutting herself off abruptly, as though she had just heard him speaking.

Letting out a long, deep breath, Fai reached over and plucked the slim-file out of her hand, dropping it on the table with a dull clatter.  Then he caught her chin with a crooked finger and turned her to face him.  Her breath caught, somewhere between her lips and her lungs, and, while she couldn’t rightfully read his expression, something about the spark in his gaze was enough to make her forget that she needed to draw air . . .

There was just something about the way in which the light hit his eyes, brushed the angles of his face with the gentlest shadows . . . Jaws bulging slight as he gritted his teeth, just for a moment, his lips parted slightly.  Unruly hair, falling into his face, he continued to stare at her, as though he were willing her to hear him, though he hadn’t spoken a word . . .

Her temple fell against the back of the sofa as his knuckles brushed over her cheek, setting off a delicious trill as every single bone in her body liquified, leaving behind a languor wrapped in a tension that she had never felt before—and interesting paradox—one she couldn’t quite grasp.  Caught up in a trance, in a bemusement so complete, she could only blink, could only stare back at him helplessly.  Every single thought failed her, leaving her in a suspended kind of reality, and the only thing that mattered was the surge of electricity that coursed from him into her.

It came without fanfare, without a tumultuous moment of indecision, of the teetering imbalance between the two extremes as he leaned in, his eyes fluttering closed, long and thick eyelashes, trembling almost nervously as his lips closed over hers.  As though she’d known—understood—that this was the inevitable conclusion, she welcomed his kiss, allowed him to lead her . . . His fingers stretched out, his palm gliding over her cheek as he slipped his hand into her hair, the pad of his thumb gently, idly, tracing the outline of her ear.  A violent shiver raced up and down her spine as his free hand slipped between her body and the back of the sofa, drawing her closer.

It was a sweet kiss, a tender kiss, a gentle affectation that did not possess the heady sense of desperation of their first one—didn’t contain the same sort of wanton abandon as the second one, either.  No, the softness of his lips brought on a slow sort of exploration as one kiss faded into the next and the next and the next . . . In those moments, she could feel it, couldn’t she?  The recollection of a time and a place when she had truly felt as though she were home, and, though the newness of discovery was there, beckoning her, that sense that she belonged . . . She clung to it.

He let out a deep breath as he leaned back just enough to break the kiss, but he let his forehead rest against hers, barking out a very terse laugh that was somehow more than just a sound.  “You . . . You belong here, don’t you?” he mused, but the question did not sound like a question, and the quiet wonder in his tone made her smile, even as the hot prickle of tears behind her still-closed eyelids made her nostrils burn.  “With me . . .”

“I . . . I want to,” she admitted, not trusting her voice as she whispered to him.  Leaning against him, letting her head fall against his shoulder, her smile trembled when his arms closed around her, not tightly, no, but most certainly unwilling to let her go just yet.  She didn’t mind.

He cleared his throat.  “Good . . . I—”

A tap on the door all but shattered the moment, and he sat up a little straighter, uttering a longsuffering sigh as Vasili stepped into the office.  Saori glanced up, only to do a double take as the butler held up a sealed scroll of paper.  If Vasili noticed the rather close proximity they shared, she didn’t know, although there really wasn’t any way he could miss it. Even so, Vasili said nothing about it as he approached in his usual no-nonsense gait.

A strange sense of foreboding crept up her spine as Fai frowned at the document for a long moment, staring at the wax seal that held it closed.

He stood abruptly, turning his back on her as he broke the seal and unrolled the paper.  Then he sighed.  “Vasili, fetch Yerik for me,” he commanded, striding out of the office with the scroll crushed in his fist.

Saori stumbled to her feet. “Vasili?  Was that . . .?”

The butler spared a moment to offer her a very perfunctory-looking smile.  “I’m not at liberty to say, my lady.”

She bit her lip as she frowned at the open doorway.  Whatever it was on that paper . . .

‘ _You don’t think . . .?_ ’

‘ _But . . ._ ’

‘ _He said it himself: it happens a lot . . . We’re not going to let him go alone, are we?_ ’

Wincing inwardly at her youkai-voice’s words, Saori followed the butler from the room, intent on finding Fai before he could slip out of the castle without her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> _Brazil’s main language is Portuguese._   _Senhorita means “miss”_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from Saori**_ :  
>  _A challenge_ …


	36. 35: Confusion

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_35_** ~~  
~ ** _Confusion_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

‘ _This might not have been . . . the best idea . . ._ ’

Biting her lip as she sprang high into the air, Saori narrowed her eyes, careful to keep the car within her sight while trying to hide her presence at the same time.

“ _Fai-sama!_ ”

 _Stopping with his hand, holding the car door open, he straightened up ang looked back at her as she dashed down the steps, skittering over the path that led to the driveway.  “Go back inside,” he called to her, his tone carrying a very real authority.  “I’ll handle this.  Don’t worry_.”

 _She didn’t stop until she was standing beside him, breathless.  “I’m coming with you,” she said, shaking her head as she struggled to catch her breath_.

 _He sighed.  “No, you’re staying here,” he informed her.  “The last thing I want or need is to be distracted by you or trying to protect you_ . . .”

 _She rolled her eyes, wrinkled her nose.  “You know, you don’t have to do that.  I am fully capable of defending myself.  You were challenged, weren’t you?_ ”

 _He’d already opened his mouth to argue with her.  At her point-blank question, however, he snapped it closed, his expression taking on a belligerence that reminded Saori of the children at the orphanage when they received their cleaning assignments for the weekend.  “It’s fine, Saori.  He’s no match for me_.”

 _She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly.  “Then it won’t be a problem if I come with you_.”

Shaking off the lingering memory, Saori made a face, her determination bolstered even more.  As far as she was concerned, Fai was going to explain, just why he’d felt the need to have Yerik come outside and all but strongarm her back into the castle, only to find herself, locked into her room from the outside.  Apparently, Yerik had thought that it would do the trick, but it didn’t.  All she’d had to do was exit through the balcony, and she’d been trailing Fai ever since . . .

When she caught up to him, she was going to give that man a piece of her mind; see if she didn’t . . . He was simply not allowed to kiss her the way he’d kissed her, say to her the things he’d said, and then try to take off without her to meet a challenger who wanted to see him dead . . .

‘ _This would be easier if you got a move on it . . . Just hop onto the car.  It’s not like he’s going to turn around and take you home now, don’t you think?_ ’

She snorted and made a face, shaking her hair back out of her eyes.  Except that really was what she thought . . . He was so set against bringing her along that she had very little doubt that he would, in fact, turn right around and take her back to the castle, never mind they’d been traveling for almost eight hours now.  She didn’t know what his ultimate destination was, but they were headed north, straight into the wilds of Siberia . . .

Far ahead, he signaled and turned off the main road.  She saw the car just as she dropped below the treeline.  Opting to close a bit of the distance, she sped through the trees, veering slightly to the right, relying on the vibrations in the earth to keep track of Fai’s car.  Night was falling, the evening shadows were stretching, reaching out to embrace the earth, and under the cover of the trees, the dusk was nearly complete.

Vaulting high, rising above the trees, Saori spotted the car.  It was slowing down, rolling forward, almost as though he were looking for a roadsign or some kind of marker.  Brushing aside her impatience as she hit the ground once more, she pushed off again.  This time, the car had pulled over as Saori lit in the high boughs of a tree to watch as he locked the vehicle and paused, long enough to fasten his sword around his hips.  Then he crossed the road, only to disappear into the trees on the far side.

She could feel it in the air, couldn’t she?  Banking on the idea that Fai would be focused more on the reason he was there and less on anything else, she altered her course, careful to remain downwind of the direction in which Fai had gone.

Once across the road, she dropped into the treetops.  Her beloved uncle had always told her that it was easier to mask her presence if she remained above the target.  Even if Fai wasn’t really looking to find her here, she figured it’d be best to try to maintain whatever advantage she could get.

Stopping at the edge of the tree line that opened around a pond, a beautiful little clearing, she frowned.  Fai stood, arms crossed, facing away from her, staring down a strange youkai—a Kamchatka-brown-bear-youkai—a huge and hulking youkai, easily twice as broad as Fai, though maybe not quite as tall . . . He was intimidating, even at a distance, and the malevolent way his youki flowed around him made her bite down on her bottom lip hard . . .

 

* * *

 

 

“Tell me, Konstantin.  Why did it come to this?” Fai demanded, standing impassively as he slowly regarded his would-be opponent.

The bear-youkai snorted in an almost incredulous kind of way.  “Don’t take me for an idiot, _Your Grace_ ,” he growled.  “I am no fool!  I know that you mean to put an end to the regency!”

“Put an end to it?  Why would I do that?  Granted, your father might well require a new heir after this day, but that was never something I intended to do.”

The bear growled, stalking slowly toward Fai, his gait, lumbering, almost clumsy, a little deceptive.  Fai didn’t buy into it.  “My father has served your house for centuries!” he rumbled, dark brown eyes lit with a rage that burned deep.  “Served your father—his father, too—and you?  You know nothing of the things he does, the steps he takes to ensure that Siberia is protected—for you!  _For you!_   And he has never asked a thing from you—nothing at all!  Only that you agree to meet with him, to offer him assurances that his loyalty is not misplaced!  Then this?  You have no honor!  You . . . You are not my tai-youkai!”

“And what have I done to make you believe in what you’re accusing me of?” Fai demanded, ducking aside when the bear swung at him.  “What is _this_ that you’re talking about?”

Unleashing a fierce roar, Konstantin swung at him again and missed.  Fai leaned away to avoid the attack.  He had yet to draw his sword—had yet to accept the formal challenge.

“I have heard the rumors on the winds!  You mean to come, to remove my father’s position.  Whether you can no longer afford to pay his stipend or you simply disrespect his ability to oversee the lands that my kin have protected for centuries, it matters not when we have been nothing but loyal—nothing but loyal—even when those whispers come to us, that our tai-youkai is nothing more than a selfish child—a worthless and spoiled brat that has cheated and resorted to the lowest of tactics to defeat your enemies!”

Fai narrowed his eyes, his hand moving to rest upon the hilt of his sword.  “And you believe the rumors?  Do you really think that I would demean myself by stooping to the things that you’ve heard?  If I wanted your father out of his position of regent, I certainly wouldn’t skulk around like some vermin in the night.  As for my ability to protect my title . . . Are you certain that you want to find out if there’s any truth to the lies you’ve heard?”

Konstantin snorted indelicately—cynically.  “It’s too late for that, isn’t it?  You think I would issue a challenge without thinking it through?  I’m not nearly so foolish . . . but I fully intend to walk away from here, too.”

Fai frowned.  Something about the youkai’s eyes—something deep and . . . He . . . He didn’t really want this, did he?  Didn’t want to challenge Fai, and yet, the rumors that he’d heard had somehow convinced him that it was the only way . . . “I have not yet accepted your challenge,” Fai said.  “You have time to rescind it.  I . . . I will allow it.”

Konstantin’s eyes flared wide, and he stepped back, almost uncertainly, shaking his mane of brown hair as a suspicious glimmer narrowed his pupils to slits.  “Why?  Why would you allow that?”  Then he grunted.  “It’s a trick . . . A tai-youkai cannot offer that kind of leniency.”

Fai shrugged.  “I can,” he said.  “You’ve issued challenge based upon rumor and untruths.  I tell you now that I did not have nor do I have any plans to usurp your father—your family—in the Regency of Siberia.  If you can accept my word on this, then we can both walk away.  If you cannot, then it will be you that causes your father’s downfall, not me.”

Konstantin considered that, his conviction in his eyes, wavering despite the distrust evident in his wary stance.  “And the reprisals?”

Fai shook his head.  “There will be none—none, except that I would like to hear more about these rumors you’ve been hearing.”

Straightening his back, Konstantin slowly nodded.  “You . . . You are welcome to come to my home—to meet my father . . . I will . . . I will tell you what I’ve heard.”

Fai nodded once, ignoring the whisper of his youkai that insisted that it could be a trap.  Somehow, Fai didn’t think so.  No, there was something to this man—Konstantin—something honest he’d seen in his gaze.  He really had believed that he had no other choice, had fully bought into whatever he’d heard.  The man hadn’t wanted to issue challenge, but how Fai knew this—why he knew it . . . He didn’t know.

Konstantin stared at him for another long minute.  Then he slowly dropped to one knee, his gaze not faltering.  “I . . . I rescind my challenge,” he said.

“I accept,” Fai replied.

Konstantin didn’t stand up, but Fai could feel the slight release of the tension in the bear-youkai’s aura.  “I’ll go home,” he said, slowly pushing himself to his feet.  “I’ll tell my father that you’re coming.”

Fai nodded, noting the shift in the wind, the sudden scent that wafted to him, and he sighed.  “If it isn’t a problem, there will be two of us,” he said.

Konstantin nodded.  “That’s fine.  We will expect you soon.”

Fai waited until the bear had disappeared into the trees on the far side of the clearing, lifting his gaze to take in the majesty, the serenity of the starry sky above.  Satisfied that Konstantin was out of earshot, he sighed.  “Saori, you can come out now.”

He heard the dull thump as she dropped out of the trees, felt the surge of her youkai that she let unfurl.  She was a little wary.  He could feel it in her aura, and finally, he turned to face her, careful to keep his expression blanked.

“I . . . I escaped from the balcony,” she said in lieu of a greeting.

“I could have sworn I told you to stay behind,” he reminded her.

She clasped her hands before her, scrunched up her shoulders as she ducked her chin, staring at the ground beneath them.  “I’ve never been good at listening,” she admitted.

He sighed.  “And just what did you think you could do?” he asked, though his tone lacked any real rancor.  “If the challenge had come to pass, you aren’t allowed to interfere.  No one is.”

“I know that,” she said, giving her head a quick shake.  “You said yourself: I belong with you . . . right?”

He snorted.  “I meant you belong at the castle with me, not that you had to glue yourself to me every moment of every day.”

She suddenly giggled.  “Do they make glue like that?”

Fai shook his head again.  “You’re entirely missing the point, and I think you’re doing it on purpose.”

She sighed, but she took another step toward him.  “You . . . You let him take back his challenge,” she said, her voice, soft, gentle as the night breeze.

He grunted, shifting his gaze to the side.  It could easily be construed as a weakness, and he knew it . . . Allowing a challenger to walk away . . . Others could easily interpret it as fear on his part, and, while he knew that it wasn’t the case . . . “I wasn’t afraid of him,” he stated, unable to repress the hint of belligerence in his tone.

“I didn’t think you were,” she told him.  “I think . . . I think you were being decent . . . I think you knew that he was too slow, too lumbering to avoid your attacks.  I think . . . I think you knew the outcome the moment he stepped out of the trees . . . Knowing that and then offering him a way out of it . . . That’s decent, Fai . . . That isn’t fear.”

He blinked, his eyes shifting back to meet hers.  “You . . . You called me, ‘Fai’ . . .”

She blushed.  Even in the fluid navy light, he could see it, tinting her bluish cheeks in a hazy violet . . . “Gomen . . . I—”

He cut her words off with his lips, drawing her close against his chest as she sighed into his mouth, as she instantly melted against him.  Her lips were soft, quivering against his, like the petal of a bloom, struggling to hang on against a harsh spring wind, just before a storm . . .

Her hands slipped up around his neck, her fingers sinking, deep into his hair, her youki surrounding him with her own particular sweetness that lived somewhere deep inside her.  The tease of her lips, the warmth of her breath, condensing on his skin . . . A resonance that reached down into the depths of him, that echoed up to his brain in whispers that he heard but didn’t comprehend, even as understanding beckoned him.  She felt . . . perfect, didn’t she?  The way she fit in his arms, the flawless familiarity that was somehow more exciting, more inebriating, than anything he’d ever felt before . . .

And, just for the moment, he allowed himself to forget—to forget why he was there, to forget that he was entirely vulnerable, out in the open.  One time, maybe the only time, it was all right, wasn’t it? To feel . . . To revel . . . To be someone other than the stoic tai-youkai . . .

Saori sighed again, her lips gently parting, allowing, maybe beckoning, the kiss to deepen.  The contours of her lips, of her teeth, the overwhelming sweetness . . . There was an innate innocence in her that spoke to him, even as she almost clumsily accepted what he gave her.  The moment he touched his tongue to hers, she shuddered, her hands slipping down to his shoulders, her fingers wrapping around fistfuls of his shirt.  The elevation in her breathing held him in check, uttered such a soft reminder that she was Saori, that she was precious to him—that she was the fairy tale that he hadn’t realized that he’d even wanted—wrapped up in bright smiles and silly notions, in impetuous freedom of spirit . . .

The taste of her was almost enough to drive him mad, the reluctant flick of her tongue against his, and she held nothing back from him, laid at all bare.  One kiss melted into another as a moment stretched on a gossamer thread.  Kissing her slowly, savoring every sigh, ever shiver, every quiver, every quake, he winced inwardly when a pang so sharp, so deep shot through him: a bittersweet sense that he couldn’t recall he last time he’d felt so sheltered, so cherished, as he did in that moment, and that was all right, too, wasn’t it?  Saori . . .

He let out a deep breath, gathering her closer against him, holding her tight, resting his cheek on her forehead as she managed an uneven little laugh.  She snuggled against him, obviously in no hurry to break the contact, which was fine with him since he wasn’t feeling any particular rush to end it, either.

It took forever for his heart to calm, the erratic beat of his heart, hammering in her ear.  She laughed again—a little stronger but not nearly as normal as the usual sound of it.  “Fai-sama . . .”

He sighed and rolled his eyes.  She didn’t see it.  “After all that, you still add that to my name?” he grumbled.

She sighed, too, only hers was a completely contented kind of sound, and then, she cleared her throat.  “I’m sorry . . . Fai . . .”

“Good enough,” he relented.  “It’s like pulling teeth for you, isn’t it?”

She wrinkled her nose.  He flicked the tip of it with his fingertip, and she giggled again.  “Can I help it that I was raised to have impeccable manners?”

“Yes well . . .”

She leaned away but didn’t let go of him, her cheeks still flushed, her lips still dusty and slightly swollen, which really only made him want to kiss her all over again . . . “I still think that what you did—”

“He was misled,” he interrupted, defensiveness creeping into his tone, letting his arms drop from her as he quickly turned away.  “A man should not die simply because he believed in lies.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” she told him quietly, grasping his hand when he started to stomp away.  He stopped, but he didn’t turn to face her again.  “I heard what he said, but why do you seem to think that you’re going to be viewed as . . . as weak or something?”

He grunted.  “They’ll say I was afraid,” he predicted, gritting his teeth as an unreasonable surge of irritation.  “They’ll say—”

“The ones who matter will know that you did what you did because you’re a fair man—because you’re a good man.”

He didn’t believe her.  He wanted to.  Experience told him, though, that it wouldn’t really be as simple as that.

‘ _Maybe not, but if you cared that much, what they thought, then you wouldn’t have allowed him a chance to rescind, now would you?_ ’

Letting out a deep breath at the accuracy of his youkai’s words, he took a deep breath, willed the irritation away.  Worrying about it now wouldn’t help.  In his heart, he knew that he’d done the right thing.  If he could figure out where the rumors were coming from, maybe he could put a stop to that . . . maybe . . .

“Come on,” he said grasping her hand and giving her a little tug.  “The Korinovich estate isn’t far, and they’re going to be expecting us . . . I think it’ll be safe, but until we know for sure, just . . . just don’t venture too far from me, all right?”

“Okay,” she agreed, falling in step beside him.

He said nothing else as they continued on, back toward the trees—toward the road where the car waited.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a break from posting until February 19th.  Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _Saori_ …


	37. 36: Unknown

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_36_** ~~  
~ ** _Unknown_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Sitting on a stool at the bar in the bright and airy kitchen of the _cottegi_ as she helped Zenaida Korinova chop up vegetables for the hearty stew that was already starting to smell delicious on the stove top where she was braising the meat.  Fai sat at the heavy table near the fireplace on the other side of the large room with Konstantin and his father, who had introduced himself as Maxim, the Siberian regent.  That man was even bigger than Konstantin—also a Kamchatka-brown-bear-youkai—had a warm and friendly face and the best, deep, ringing belly laugh.  He was a little reticent when they’d first arrived, but once he realized that Fai really had no intention of usurping him, it didn’t take long for him to warm up.

They’d arrived at the _cottegi_ this morning, having stopped at the local town to rent a room there last night, mostly to give Konstantin time to prepare for their visit and to allow Fai a chance to decompress, to regain his perspective before walking into a meeting that could easily go either way.  In fact, he’d tried to talk her into staying at the inn.  Saori, however, wouldn’t oblige him, and he’d given up fairly quickly.

Zenaida bit her lip as she scooped the chopped veggies into a bowl.  “I apologize.  The stew isn’t fancy . . . We didn’t realize . . . I mean, we thought . . .”

Saori grimaced, understanding what Zenaida meant, even though she was reluctant to say it.  “Fai-sama’s a very good man,” she said, offering the woman a reassuring smile.  “He said that he feels there’s more to it, that he wouldn’t want to carry out a challenge against someone who issued it because of baseless rumors.”

Zenaida sighed, glancing over at the men, but this time, she smiled.  It was a small smile, but Saori could see the affection in it as she watched her men and Fai.  “He . . . He wasn’t given a fair chance when he became tai-youkai . . . There were so many who questioned his ability, simply based upon his age, even those who professed to serve him.  The regents discussed it—banding together, asking him to step aside—or at least to appoint an interim while he continued to grow, to strengthen.  Maxim was of the opinion that he should do the latter, for his own good.  A twenty-year-old was young, and assuming that much responsibility at that age . . . It wasn’t really fair, but the others?  Most of them were of the opinion that a change in regime was in order.  They were dissatisfied with Alexei, you see?  It had little to do with His Grace . . .”

Frowning as she considered Zenaida’s commentary, Saori slowly shook her head.  “Why?”

Zenaida shrugged, smoothing back a long strand of her pale blonde hair as she stood to put the vegetables into the pot.  Giving it a little stir, taking the time to add salt and pepper, she gestured for Saori to follow her when she grabbed a basket and moved off toward the back door.  Saori scooted off the high stool and hurried over to get the door and hold it open for Zenaida, who had stopped to retrieve an old pair of scissors.

The warm sunshine was weak and watery as it filtered through the nearby trees.  She followed Zenaida over to the herb garden—an absolutely fabulous one, at that, breathing deep, savoring the earthy smells.  “Your garden is beautiful,” she remarked, gently touching the delicate leaves of a gorgeous parsley plant.

Zenaida laughed softly.  It was a very soothing sound, almost lyrical in its delivery.  “Thank you.”

“Oh, thank you for welcoming us in your home,” Saori hurried to say.  “It’s a beautiful place.”

“It is humble,” Zenaida insisted, brushing aside Saori’s praise.  “It’s been in Maxim’s family for generations, and each generation leaves its mark upon it.”  Raising her face, she pointed over toward a beautiful little arbor, surrounded by wildflowers, partially hiding the rustic old bench swing from view.  “Maxim built that for me when we were mated.  I’m originally from Greece, and I was so homesick . . . I grew up amid olive trees and mild temperatures with the sea breeze on my skin every morning, drenched in sunshine, and coming here was as different as daylight and darkness . . .”

“I’ll bet the culture shock was terrible,” Saori ventured as they moved slowly between the rows of herbs.

Zenaida let out a deep breath, nodding slowly, her long ponytail, blowing in the fresh breeze.  “Oh, it was . . . I knew it would be different, but I hadn’t realized just how different.  It felt like an entirely new and frightening planet . . . Does that make sense?”

Saori nodded, taking the basket so that Zenaida had an easier time, harvesting the herbs.  “I think so.  It’s a world apart from Tokyo, too.  It’s not bad, just very, very different.”

“I would like to go there one day—Tokyo . . .”

Saori smiled.  “It’s a nice place to grow up.  So many places to go, things to see . . . I was never bored . . . Now, tell me, how did you meet Maxim-san?”

She laughed, her gaze taking on that faraway kind of sheen, as though she were looking back through the years . . . “My Maxim . . . I met him at a party that I didn’t want to attend.  It was for old people, I told Papa—a lot of dignitaries from exotic lands . . . It bored me, silly little thing that I was . . . But Papa said that I had to go, that it would look bad upon my family if I didn’t, and, being the dutiful daughter that I was, I went along, and I was right—terribly right.  It was the worst experience . . . Even more really old and really stuffy youkai, all with their families who spent more time, comparing themselves to each other in silence, than they did, trying to mingle and meet one another.  You could tell who thought that they were better than you.  They wouldn’t deign to speak to you, you know?  But those who felt as though they didn’t quite measure up?  They were worse: sitting there, whispering and pointing and staring . . . Just awful!”

“Well, but you met your mate there,” Saori pointed out.  “It can’t have been all bad . . .”

Zenaida ducked her chin, her cheeks pinking prettily.  “I did,” she agreed.

“Was it like one of those storybook meetings?  You see each other across the room . . . Your eyes meet, and there’re fireworks . . .?”

Zenaida grimaced, but smiled at the same time.  Then she laughed.  “Not exactly . . . I was outside, taking some air, wishing that I was anywhere but there—out with my friends or watching a movie at the cinema—all those things that a seventeen-year-old girl would rather be doing.  I didn’t see him out there.  He was sitting on a bench in the shadows, and the next thing I know, he grabs my arms and kisses me—this stranger.  I was stunned—and angry.  How dare this man do that when I don’t know him, not even his name!  So, I . . . I slapped him—hard.  He laughed, which only fueled my rage, and he said that he was my mate . . .”

Saori blinked.  “That fast?  Is that even possible?  Well, I mean, I guess it is . . .”

Zenaida chuckled.  “He pursued me for five years.  Every time I thought I was rid of him, he’d show up again.  I finally agreed to go on a date with him just to get him to leave me alone.  He promised that he’d go away if I didn’t like him, but . . . But he was kind and gentle and sweet . . . and he said he didn’t know why he kissed me that night.  He just felt that it was the most natural thing to do . . . It wasn’t love at first sight, no . . . But he did make quite an impact on me.”

Saori cleared her throat.  “If . . . If it makes you feel better, I . . . I _appropriated_ . . . Fai-sama the first time I met him . . . Well, I guess you could say I, um . . . kidnapped him . . .”

Zenaida blinked.  “You . . .?  Excuse me?”

She grimaced.  “I wanted him to meet the orphans . . . I was working at the St. Nicholas II Home for Children at the time as an advocate, and he had sent word that he was going to end funding, so they sent me to try to talk him out of it, and . . .” She made a face.  “Do you know, like, when every single thing you can think of just starts to go wrong, but it happens so fast that you can’t really control it or stop it . . .?”  She sighed.  “That’s kind of what happened . . .”

“Oh, my . . .”

Saori slowly shook her head.  “But he did meet the children, and he decided that he could keep it open, so now I’m working with him, looking for placement for some of them, even if they go to homes outside of Asia . . .”

She pondered that for a long moment and then nodded slowly.  “It’s a good solution,” she said.  “All children deserve a family of their own, even if it means they have to be sent to a whole new world . . .”

“I think so, too,” Saori allowed.  Still, she couldn’t help but to remember what Zenaida had said before they’d come outside—the things about Fai’s father . . . “But . . . But I wondered . . . I mean, about Fai-sama’s father . . .?  What did you mean when you said the regents were dissatisfied with him?”

Considering the abrupt change in topic, Zenaida slowly shook her head before she spoke.  “Alexei—He was a good tai-youkai, please believe me.  But he was a very _proud_ man, and he held little value in the regents’ opinions.  They are here to assist the tai-youkai—to help him govern this region.  It is not an easy place.  It is so vast, the people so diverse . . . It is the reason that the regents were established, and they all have served with unmatched pride and loyalty, but Alexei . . .” Shaking her head, she made an exaggerated frown.  “Somehow, he was convinced that a strong leader needed to stand on his own, that he needed to trust himself above all others, and he was not wrong, but he failed to recognize that it was also not weak to listen to the wisdom of others, especially when it was their jobs to assist him in those things.”

Saori bit her lip.  Sure, she could understand the underlying sentiment, especially in a place as large as Asia.  Even so . . . “They are the undisputed law,” she said.  “You may not agree with what they do, but they’re in office for a reason . . .”

“I agree,” she replied.  “However, he ought to know—to _understand_ —that it is the pride of the regents, too.  Maxim—those like him?  They want to do their jobs, too.  They want to offer that insight into the area that he may not have since he doesn’t live here . . . Maxim disagrees with those who resorted to challenging His Grace.  He thought they would make more of an impact if they had stood together to voice their opinions . . . and then, the rumors . . .”

“The rumors?”

“Every day, there are new ones, and every day, the sense that Maxim’s position is being threatened has grown, and the troubling thing to him is that, through this, His Grace has never reached out directly to him, one way or the other.  Well, until now . . .”

Saori bit her lip, wondering really, if she ought to say anything, given that it wasn’t really her place, but then, maybe she didn’t have to.  Her gut instinct was to rush to Fai’s defense, but somehow, she had a sneaking suspicion that Fai . . . He wouldn’t appreciate it, would he?

‘ _It’d be weird, don’t you think, if you didn’t want to defend your mate._ ’

Blinking, eyes widening at the matter-of-fact revelation just dropped on her by her youkai-voice, Saori’s universe froze.  Zenaida was speaking, but the words were lost to her.  The only thing that kept repeating in her mind, over and over again?

‘ _My . . . mate . . .?_ ’

 

* * *

 

 

Pushing his plate away on the table, Fai let out a deep breath as he reached for the glass of kvass.  As much as everyone had eaten, the serving bowls and platters that covered every inch of the table were still piled high with all kinds of food.

Maxim and Konstantin were still eating.  Saori was watching them with a little smile on her face.  She intercepted his gaze, her cheeks pinking prettily as she quickly looked away, leaving Fai to ponder her rather strange reaction for a moment.

‘ _Come to think of it, she’s done that every time she’s caught you looking at her today,_ ’ his youkai-voice remarked.

‘ _Yeah, but why . . .?_ ’

‘ _Maybe she’s thinking about that kiss yesterday . . . God only knows you stayed up late enough, thinking about it . . ._ ’

He sighed inwardly, mostly because his youkai was right: he was awake almost all night, thinking about that kiss, that moment, about just how perfect it had felt to him . . . The question that had plagued him?  Did she feel it, too?  Those emotions that he’d felt?  Part of him thought that maybe she had, but he couldn’t quite shake the lingering sense of doubt . . .

‘ _You could always ask her . . ._ ’

Snorting indelicately, Fai set the glass down.  ‘ _No, I really can’t._ ’

Some things, he supposed, just couldn’t be rushed, even if he wanted to . . .

“We are honored that you took the time to come to our home,” Maxim said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh.  “You are welcome here any time, Your Grace—and you, Saori.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Fai remarked.  “We cannot stay too much longer, though.  It’s a long drive back home.”

“Of course!  Of course!” Maxim said.  “What we spoke of earlier—rest assured, we will get to the bottom of it.”

Fai nodded.  He wasn’t entirely sure, what to make of any of the things that Maxim and Konstantin had told him.  So many rumors—some specifically targeted toward the regent—while others were far vaguer, and yet, some of them held at least a small token of truth.  That’s what bothered him most . . .

Those rumors hadn’t been what drove Konstantin to challenge him.  They had only served to deepen their overall suspicion, painting a picture of Fai that was wholly inept and almost megalomaniacally dangerous.  Rumors that the treasury was almost empty—that he’d managed to squander it completely—that he turned an apathetic eye upon those in need . . . Even that he was closing the orphanage and turning those children all out onto the street . . . and more.  Those, he supposed, were the highlights . . .

Maxim and Konstantin had promised to try to find the source of those rumors, but there were no guarantees.  Rumors, he knew, tended to take on a life of their own, even if the one who had propagated those rumors bordered upon committing outright treason . . .

Zenaida stood up, hurried over to the kitchen to retrieve a beautiful silver tray, piled high with baklava.  She set it on the one empty basket that had held slices and slices of black bread.  Though he wasn’t really a big dessert eater, he took one.  He had to admit, it was the best baklava he’d ever had . . .

Maxim laughed heartily, popping a piece of the confection into his mouth.  “And this Saori . . . She is your . . . personal assistant . . .?”

Fai didn’t miss the bawdy teasing in the man’s tone, and, glancing at Saori, he figured that she hadn’t, either.  Her cheeks pinked sweetly, and she ducked her head when Zenaida reached over and smacked her mate with the back of her hand.  “Stop that!” she scolded, despite the sparkle in her eyes, which only made Maxim laugh harder.  “And it’s none of your business, you know!”

“Something like that,” Fai allowed after clearing his throat.  “Saori . . . Are you ready?”

“Oh, but . . .” Biting her lip as she surveyed the mountains of dishes still on the table, she looked like she was torn between the idea that they really ought to get moving and the perceived carnage left in their wakes.

“No, no!  His Grace is right,” Zenaida insisted, rising from her chair and shooing Saori away from the table.  “You two have a safe trip home.”

“Dinner was delicious,” Saori said, offering the woman a polite Japanese bow.  “Thank you so much!”

Fai stood, too.  Both of the men rose, as well, to shake hands after Fai stepped around the table.  “Your hospitality is greatly appreciated,” he told them.

Maxim nodded, his dark eyes suspiciously bright.  “No, Your Grace . . .  Thank you . . . Thank you for allowing Kostya to rescind his challenge—for listening to his words.  I am in your debt, and should you ever, ever have need of me, I will be there.”

Nodding slowly, Fai grasped the man’s hand tightly.  “I may take you up on that,” he said a little ruefully.

“God be with you,” Maxim said.

“You, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

“ _I will leave tomorrow, search out the ones who I’d heard talking before,” Konstantin said as he walked Fai and Saori out to the car.  “I . . . I’m so sorry, Your Grace . . . That I believed the things that I was told_ . . .”

“ _Don’t worry about it,” Fai said_.

 _Konstantin didn’t look any less guilty, despite Fai’s attempt to brush it off.  “Konstantin_ —”

“ _Kostya,” he interrupted.  “You . . . You can call me Kostya_.”

“ _All right,” Fai agreed.  “You don’t need to address me so formally, either_.”

 _The bear-youkai looked rather horrified—almost enough to make Fai laugh.  “Oh, uh . . . I-I-I can’t do that_ . . .”

“ _If you find out anything, don’t hesitate to let me know.  Maybe it’s nothing, but_. . .”

 _Konstantin slowly shook his head.  “No, you’re right,” he said, scratching at his bearded chin thoughtfully.  “It feels . . . It feels like there was a method to it—like someone might have wanted these things to reach me.”  The expression on his face hardened.  “I don’t like it.  If someone was trying to manipulate me_. . .”

“ _Let me know what you find out,” Fai reiterated.  “Stop in if you’re near the castle_.”

“Fai-sama?”

Blinking away the lingering memory, Fai glanced over at Saori.  She yawned and stretched as well as she could, given the confines of the car.  She’d fallen asleep about ten minutes into the long drive and had been asleep for the last couple hours.  “You’re awake.”

She smiled a little vaguely.  “I can drive if you want to take a nap,” she offered.

He grunted.  “Knowing you, you’d take off for the orphanage again if I let you.”

She giggled.  “I wouldn’t!  Then again, it wouldn’t hurt to get more pictures of the children . . . Some of the files only have one or two of each of them, and some of those are pretty blurry . . .”

Fai shook his head.  “I thought you wanted to go to Evgeni’s Kupala Night celebration?”

She gasped, eyes flashing wide.  “Oh, I do!  I mean, I’ve heard stories, but it sounds so intriguing . . . We don’t have anything like that in Japan . . .”

Fai rolled his eyes.  “I can’t say that I’ve ever particularly enjoyed it, but . . . maybe this year will be different . . .”

Biting her lips, Saori smiled even as her cheeks pinked.

He sighed, propping his elbow on the window frame, resting his temple against his curled fist as he trained his eyes on the road before them.  The sun was starting to sink on the horizon, and they were still a good few hours from home.  If they had any camping gear, he’d seriously consider, just stopping, but it was probably better that they just went home.

“Oh!” Saori exclaimed, twisting around in her seat to retrieve the basket that Zenaida had packed for them.  Given that it was such a long drive, she’d insisted that they take some food.  She pulled a couple pirojki out of the basket and handed one to Fai before biting into hers.  “Mmm . . . this one’s beef!”

Leaning back slightly to eye the one in his hand, he snorted very loudly and gave it to her before grabbing the one out of her hand.

“Hey!” she protested with a little laugh.

“That one’s potato, and you did that on purpose,” he accused, shoving the entire pirojki into his mouth at once.

“But I wanted the beef one!” she complained.

“You got a bite of it,” he told her.  “Now be good and eat your pirojki.”

She giggled and bit into hers.  “Baka,” she grumbled around the food in her mouth.

“What does that mean?  Baka?” he asked.

She shot him a sidelong look, then smiled sweetly.  “It means that you’re lucky I like you, Your Grace.”

He snorted and shook his head as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I’m still on my break, but figured you might like a chapter of something cute!  See you all for regular updates on February 19th_!!
> 
>  ** _Cottegi_** _: Elaborate dachas (traditional ‘country house’) with brick walls and three to four-stories_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _I think she’s lying_ …


	38. 37: Intrigue

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_37_** ~~  
~ ** _Intrigue_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“What’s going on with you?”

Saori made a face as she settled down on the sofa in the antechamber of the bedroom suite.  At least Rinji looked more perplexed than angry, she thought.  “I was offered a job, helping Fai-sama find homes for the orphans,” she told him.

“Yes, that’s what kaa-san said,” he replied.  Brows furrowing together, he slowly shook his head, silvery hair spilling over his broad shoulders, golden eyes, bright, almost glowing.  There were so many moments when she was struck by how very much Rinji looked like their grandfather—pretty much exactly like him, actually—except when Rinji smiled, of course.  A bright, open, engaging smile that was lightyears away from the vague little half-smiles of their esteemed grandparent . . . Now, as he sat back in his office chair in the pristine and perfectly pressed white dress shirt—hopelessly neat, immaculately tailored—was one of those times.  “He’s not trying to lock you up again, is he?”

She giggled.  She couldn’t help herself, but the sound of her amusement only served to darken Rinji’s expression, which, in turn, just added to his Sesshoumaru-like appearance.  “No, he isn’t,” she said.  “It’s all right, nii-chan.  He’s a really good man.  You’re going to like him.”

“Oh, I will, will I?” he half-grumbled.  “Somehow, I highly doubt that.”

“You don’t think you’ll like him?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever meet him,” he clarified.  “Unless that’s your way of saying you need me to come rescue you.  Are you speaking in code, Saori-chan?”

“No, I’m not,” she insisted.  “I think you will though . . . Well, eventually . . .”

He didn’t look like he believed her, but he shrugged.  “You realize that your disappearance shaved a good thousand years off of otou-san’s life.  Mine, too, come to think of it . . .”

“I’m sure kaa-chan told him—told you—where I was . . .That I wanted to go.”

Rinji sighed.  “Actually, she didn’t at first.  Refused, actually.  Forbid me from trying to track you down, too, which just figured, but she said you were safe . . . Tou-san and kaa-chan, though . . . They had a good, old-fashioned fight about it.”

She grimaced.  “They did?”

He nodded, slumping to the side in his office chair, propping his elbow on the armrest, resting his temple on his index finger and thumb, spread into the shape of the letter, ‘L’.  “I guess he hadn’t taken the time to explain _why_ he went to go find Demyanov-sama, just that that’s _where_ they were going—he and ojii-san.  Anyway, ojii-san called to say that Fai-sama had called him, so . . .”

She didn’t know what to say to that.  The last thing—the very last thing—she’d ever wanted to do was to cause an argument between her parents . . .

Rinji sighed.  “Saori, you always take everything so personally.  Kaa-san was thinking of you when she refused to tell him anything.  It wasn’t until tou-san said that he and ojii-san went to go talk to Demyanov-sama, to ask him if he was done, trying to punish you for . . . Well, for that . . . Anyway, once he explained that, then she was more than happy to tell him that you’d taken Demyanov-sama up on his offer of a job.”

“. . . But they’re not fighting anymore, right?”

Her brother smiled.  It was the indulgent little smile that she knew so well, full of affection and even a little amusement.  It lent his amber gaze a certain glow, deepened the color to more of a tawny, a sherry . . . It was the smile that Saori loved.  “No, Saori-chan, they’re not fighting any more . . . But speaking of your new job, obaa-san said to tell you that she’s still looking into potential adopters . . . She said she has a few who might be interested, and jiji said that he’s been talking to some of the wealthier families in the area to see if any of them would be willing to house some of the older children while they attend Tokyo Gakuen.  He says that so far, there is quite a bit of interest, so if you could compile a list of the children that you’d like to send here, then it’d give him a better idea, how many families he’d need.”

“I’ll do that,” she promised.  “I’m sure Fai-sama will agree to that.  It would take a huge burden off the orphanage, too . . .”  Suddenly, she giggled.  “Fai-sama’s taking me to a traditional Kupala celebration!  His . . . well, I guess he’s his friend . . . He’s throwing a huge party—a couple days of festivities and a formal ball afterward.  I have to admit, I’m pretty excited . . . I bought my dress earlier today.”

“And he’s just your boss . . .?” he challenged rather dubiously, arching an eyebrow in silent challenge.

“Yes, of course . . . I admit, I thought about wearing the dress I bought in Australia when he took me to the opera, but I didn’t think it was quite formal enough, and Kupala is a celebration of summer, so I thought something lighter would be better . . .”

“Is that right?”  Tilting his head to the side, he stared at her for several seconds, a thoughtful expression on his beloved face.  When she was younger, the few sleepovers she’d had, she’d discovered that her friends had loved it whenever Rinji just happened to stop by . . . Objectively speaking, she had to admit, he was one of the better-looking men she knew, even if he was her brother . . . There was just something about him, she supposed, even if Rinji himself never actually seemed to notice the uncanny effect he tended to have on the female population, in general . . .

“Nii-chan?”

He blinked, as though he hadn’t realized that he was staring off into space.  Then he chuckled.  “Sorry.  I was just remembering when you’d get that look on your face when you’d talk to me instead of when you’re talking about Demyanov-sama.”

“Look?  What look?”

He shook his head, but his smile didn’t fade.  In fact, it turned a little bashful—entirely sweet and entirely endearing, too.  “That look, like I was the one you liked best in the world.  I think I’ve been replaced . . .”  He shrugged.  “So, are you going to tell me what’s really going on over there?”

“I . . .” She wrinkled her nose.  “There’s nothing going on.  I swear.”

“Nothing you want to tell onii-chan about, anyway . . .”

She giggled.  “And you tell me everything?  Because I won’t believe you if you say you do.”

“I’m much older than you, Saori, and—”

“Twenty-six years isn’t that big of a difference,” she interrupted.

He rolled his eyes.  “It kind of is.”

“To humans, sure, but we’re youkai.  If you think about it that way, twenty-six years is a pretty short time, really . . .”

Her logic amused him, and he chuckled.  “The fact remains that I’m old enough to be your father, which is why I am absolutely allowed to keep certain things from you.”

Saori frowned at him.  “Nii-chan . . .”

“Hmm?”

“It occurred to me . . .”

“Hmm?”

She rolled her eyes since he had slipped into the, ‘I’m-going-to-humor-you,’ tone of voice.  “You’re almost fifty—”

“I’m forty-six.”

“—which is still almost fifty.  When are you going to find your mate?”

“For your information, Little Miss Nosy, I’m not in that big a hurry to find one.  If it happens, it happens.  If it doesn’t happen, then it doesn’t.  You can’t really rush that kind of thing, anyway, and it’s not like I don’t have quite enough on my plate as it is.”

She wrinkled her nose.  “You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” she pointed out.  “Why is that?  Too busy, playing the field?”

He grunted.  “I’ll talk to you later,” he said, leaning forward, hand reaching toward the camera—toward the computer.  “Bye.”

She laughed when he abruptly ended the call.  She missed Rinji, no doubt about it.

The computer chimed, letting her know that she’d received an email, and she leaned in to tap it.  It was from Sabra Kouri, the African tai-youkai.

.

 

‘ _Dear Miss Saori_ , 

‘ _I have talked to my advisors, and they have informed me of three families who are interested in providing permanent homes for some of your orphans.  Attached are the files of each family, along with the children that they are interested in meeting.  Please advise as to whether or not this is acceptable to you or if you require more information before meeting the potential adopters_.’ 

‘ _Very truly yours_ ,  
‘ _Sabra_.’

 

.

Biting her lip as she clicked to download the attachments, she scanned the first one, long enough to ascertain that the files on the families were very detailed, including lists of personal references, financial reports, everything she could possibly need.  Even better, she noticed as she scanned through the other documents, none of the families had asked for children that were already set to meet other families.  She’d done her best to apprise the different tai-youkai that some of the children had already been tentatively paired up with families from other jurisdictions, but she’d worried that maybe she’d been a little preoccupied, that she might have forgotten to send some of the memos on . . .

Grabbing the slim-file she’d transferred the information to, she stood up and hurried to the door, ready to find Fai and to tell him about the most recent developments—not just the email from Sabra-sama, but also the information that her brother had given her, too.

 

* * *

 

 

Yerik grimaced as he accepted the outstretched hand, offered to help him to his feet.  He was stiff he was sore, and yet, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“You still breathing, pup?” InuYasha asked in a rather bored tone of voice, dropping Tetsusaiga into the scabbard on his hip as he crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at Yerik.

“I’m ready,” he said, adjusting his grip on his sword.

InuYasha didn’t look convinced and waved a hand.  “Take a break,” he growled.

“It’s fine,” Yerik insisted, struggling just a little to keep from breathing too heavily.

“Take a break,” InuYasha growled a second time.  “Anyway, you’re not doing too bad.  Not like I think you’re gonna die if you get sent out again.”

Ryomaru chuckled.  “High praise coming from him.”

Dropping the sword into the scabbard on his hip, Yerik headed over to the clear stream, taking his time as he scooped up some water in his hands and drank it down.

They were a bit away from the castle since InuYasha and Ryomaru didn’t want to let Saori know that they were there.  Yerik was of the opinion that she wouldn’t mind, not really, but they seemed to think that she might well freak out if she found out that they were assigned to watch out for her.  At this point, they were both pretty sure that Fai had no intention of locking her up again, but they weren’t quite ready to call it quits, either, and that was fine with Yerik.  After all, he was ultimately benefitting from their presence in Russia, even if his body wasn’t as convinced as his mind was . . .

It was pretty brutal, actually.  Neither InuYasha nor Ryomaru ever pulled their punches.  It wasn’t as bad as the first couple days, though, when they were doing little more than sparring with him, just to assess his level of skill.  Yerik had thought that he was very well trained.  He was wrong.  Those two moved ridiculously fast, and having even just one of them as an opponent was tough enough.

He’d started out, sparring with Ryomaru, and he’d thought that was bad.  He’d soon learned that there was a reason that history had named InuYasha the Hanyou of Legend.  He was intuitive enough to avoid most every attack, and on the occasion when Yerik was able to land a hit, it was always countered with ridiculous speed.

Right now, he was learning how to see the collision of youki, to find the fissure where they met.  InuYasha had told him that his kaze no kizu wouldn’t be as powerful as one performed with Tetsusaiga, but that he should be able to use it once he learned it, however, he probably wouldn’t be able to infuse his own youki into the blade to use it without an actual conflict, as InuYasha could do, simply because of the way the sword was made.  If it had been created to absorb Yerik’s youki, then it could have.  It wasn’t, though, since he had no real use of elemental properties . . .

“You’re doing a hell of a job.  Can’t say I’ve seen anyone with your drive, really . . . Well, not since Bas, and he’s a law unto himself . . .” Ryomaru remarked, hunkering down beside the stream to get a drink of water.  “If that one’s coming straight at you, you’d do better to just get the fuck outta the way . . .”

“Bas?”

Ryomaru grinned.  “Oh, Sebastian . . .  next North American tai-youkai.  That one’s built like a brick shithouse, and it’s one-hundred-percent scary-as-hell . . .”

“Are you scared of him?”

Ryomaru snorted.  “Me?  Keh!  I eat pups like him for dinner!”

Yerik rolled his eyes, but grinned.

“Ow!” Ryomaru growled when InuYasha balled up his fist and thumped him on the head.  “What’d you do that for, oyaji?”

“Quit your smack-talking, baka, and get back on task—both of you.”

Ryomaru stood up slowly, rubbing at his head despite the goofy grin that had surfaced on his features.  “C’mon, Yerik.  Let’s see if you can get it right this time.”

Yerik was a little slower in getting to his feet, but he stood up and followed the hanyou back over to the clearing to resume his practice.

 

* * *

 

 

Fai strode into Saori’s room, a marked scowl, darkening his gaze.  Spotting her all cozy under the thin duvet as she turned the page of the book she was reading, he arched an eyebrow and stomped over to the bed.

“Did something displease you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.  He wasn’t wearing a shirt or slacks, decked out instead in a pair of gray cotton sleeping pants, and he slowly shook his head when she didn’t even bother to raise her head.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she told him a little absently.  “I didn’t know how long you were going to be locked in your office, and I was sleepy.  That’s all.”

He grunted.  “You could sleep—or read, actually—in my bed.”

She gave a very vague little nod.  “I could, but this one looked comfortable, and I haven’t slept _in_ it yet . . .” Lifting her chin to frown at him, she shook her head.  “Besides, don’t you think the maid wonders about that when she comes in here to make my bed every day?”

“I think I pay her well enough not to care where you sleep at night, Saori.”

She didn’t look like she believed him.  In fact, she wiggled around, making herself more comfortable against the mountain of pillows, propped behind her.

“All right,” he grumbled, stomping around the bed.  “You win.”

She blinked, biting her lip as a tiny smile twisted the corners of her lips when he crawled into bed next to her.  “Don’t hog the blankets.”

She rolled her eyes when he gave the duvet a good yank, holding it to his chest as he rolled over to face away from her, very nearly uncovering her in the process.  “Hey!”

“My blankets are bigger because my bed is bigger,” he pointed out.  “Night, Saori.”

She giggled, setting the book aside so that she could cuddle against his back.  He shrugged his shoulder in a show of trying to shake her off, which only made her laugh harder.  “Oyasumi,” she said between giggled.

Fai heaved a longsuffering sigh, but rolled over to pull her against his chest.  “Go to sleep,” he told her gruffly.

She leaned up, kissed his cheek, before snuggling against him once more as she closed her eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Gakuen_** _: Academy, school_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020 ——— Denyelle ——— sutlesarcasm
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— Monsterkittie
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** lovethedogs ——— cutechick18 ——— AvinPhi
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from Saori**_ :  
>  _He’s so cute!!_


	39. 38: Evgeni

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_38_** ~~  
~ ** _Evgeni_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

The expansive estate wasn’t quite as big as Demyanov Castle, but the opulence, the grandeur, seemed to fairly drip from every visible orifice.  Completely adorned with garlands of flowers in a riot of colors that snaked their ways up and around the tallest pillars that flanked the great porch, that draped across the overhang in a very welcoming display.  The ivy that climbed impossibly high on the outer walls were dotted with more flowers, adding a gaiety to what could have been a rather imposing structure.

Two majestic fountains rose high on either side of the long and winding driveway, in the midst of the well-manicured gardens, and Saori could see, even from the distance, that the driveway was already lined with a number of vehicles.

“They’re not all staying here,” Fai said, following the direction of Saori’s stare.  “Most of them take rooms at the local inns and just drive here for the festivities.”

“And is there a reason you had to drag me along?” Yerik complained from the back seat of the car.  “You’re the Demyanov that they want to see, not me.”

“You normally love the Ivan Kupala celebrations,” Fai pointed out.

Yerik snorted.  “Sure, when I was ten and all I had to do was run around like a little banshee and drive all the adults crazy . . .”

Fai chuckled.  “It’ll be fine,” he assured him.  Saori covered her mouth to hide her amusement since his tone made it sound like more of a threat than a reassurance.

“Does Feodosiv-san have a mate?  Children?” she asked, figuring that it might be for the best to change the current topic.

Fai shrugged.  “A mate, yes.  Children?  No.  Evgeni isn’t exactly fond of them.”

She nodded.  Yes, she supposed she could see that.  He didn’t seem like the warm and personable type, not really . . . “And you, Fai-sama?” she ventured.  “Do you want children?”

“Well, whether I want them or not, it’s kind of part and parcel with the title,” he remarked.

His answer caught her off-guard.  She wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret it.  He’d said it in such a dry tone . . . She’d never stopped to consider, whether or not she’d find a mate who didn’t really relish the idea of starting a family, had she?  And certainly, Fai would have to have at least one child since he’d need an heir to his title, but something about that bothered her, too . . .

‘ _Come on, Saori . . . Maybe you’re reading too much into it . . ._ ’

But she didn’t think so; not really.  If Fai didn’t really want them, what would that mean for any children they’d have, since it really was necessary?

‘ _But he is your mate, you know.  There’s really no going back on that now.  Besides, you know he liked the children at the orphanage well enough . . ._ ’

‘ _They . . . They weren’t his, though, and that makes a huge difference . . ._ ’

‘ _Well, try to look on the bright side.  Either way, you’re guaranteed at least one pup, right?_ ’

Biting her lip as the car came to a stop before the impressive edifice that was the Feodosiv _cottegi_ , she managed a very wan smile when Fai came around to open her door, took her hand to help her out of it.

As true as that may be, if he didn’t want any, then the child would know it, and if that were the case, just how fair would it be?  Maybe Fai’s upbringing was a lot stricter than Saori’s ever was, but having children, simply because one had to?  It wouldn’t be fair, not at all, not to any children born into a family like that . . . She simply hadn’t thought that Fai would feel that way—or she simply hadn’t really considered it.

And if he didn’t want children, could she really be all right with that?  Certainly, it wasn’t his fault.  He hadn’t decided such a thing just to spite her.  Even so . . .

It was a question that really required a lot more time and thought to truly figure out.  That it had come up now, just before the midsummer festival was simply rotten timing, but somehow, she didn’t think she’d really be able to brush it aside, not when it really was such a huge thing to her . . .

A couple of servants stepped outside, hurried over to retrieve their luggage from the trunk.  Evgeni emerged, waiting on the porch to greet them.  It all passed Saori by in a haze, even as they were led upstairs to their rooms.

It wasn’t until the door closed behind the servant with her bags that Saori blinked and looked around.

She was entirely alone.

 

* * *

 

 

“Why do you look like you’re a million miles from here?”

Blinking, forcing a little smile as Yerik stopped beside her, golden hair shining softly, bright green eyes sparkling, decked out in a very nice, very conservative suit that wasn’t quite a tux but wasn’t exactly something one would wear to the office, either, Saori gave what she hoped was a casual shrug.  “Just thinking, I guess,” she replied, careful to keep her tone light despite the darker thoughts that were still swirling around her brain.  “Who’s that woman over there, staring at Fai-sama like he hung the moon?”

Yerik chuckled, the sound of it muffled by the glass of vodka hovering at his lips as he followed the direction of her gaze.  Fai, wearing a plain white dress shirt and black slacks, tie hanging loosely below the first undone button at his neck . . . If he weren’t the Asian tai-youkai, he probably wouldn’t have turned up in such a casual way.  “Honestly?  I have no idea.  It happens all the times at gatherings like this.  To be honest, I have no idea if they’re interested in him or if they’re just trying to get a piece of the tai-youkai . . .”

She frowned.  It was pretty obvious to her that Fai was not exactly encouraging the attention.  Standing with one hand, holding a drink and with his other hand dug deep in his pocket, he was listening politely despite the body language that was definitely gracious, even if unmistakably aloof.  Not for the first time, his gaze shifted to meet hers, and again, she managed a wan smile.  He offered her the tiniest nod before returning his attention to the woman before him.

They were in the midst of a small—that was Evgeni’s word for it; Saori would have called it rather large—cocktail party—a party she’d wanted to skip.  Too bad she figured that it would have drawn way too much attention, at least, from Fai . . . Truth be told, she’d much rather be left alone to think, to try to make sense of the feelings of trepidation inspired by Fai’s candid words in the car, but after the huge dinner in the grand hall, Fai had reminded her that she might wish to change before the party started . . .

“Come with me.”

She blinked when Yerik grabbed her hand, led her over to the doors that opened out onto the stern brick patio behind the _cottegi_.  He stopped just outside the doors, letting go of her, and grinned at her as she stepped forward, her face upturned as she stared in wonder at the illuminated gardens, slightly aglow with a matrix of fairy lights, all in varying shades of white.  Some of them were set to blink, giving the illusion of a million little fireflies in the darkness.  The beautifully tended flowerbeds, hedges, bushes, small trees . . . the flawlessly cut grass . . . All of it was lit by those twinkling bulbs, and, for the first time since their arrival, she giggled softly.  “Beautiful,” she breathed.

Yerik chuckled.  “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” he remarked, beckoning her to follow him as he led the way down the steps and onto the flagstone path.  “Good thing that I’ve done this before,” he quipped as he veered to the right when the path split.  “I’ve seen all this many times already.

She smiled.  It was a real one this time.  It was rather impossible to maintain such a pensive mood when she was surrounded by such understated wonder . . .

“You’ve been quiet since we arrived,” he said when she remained silent.  “It’s kind of unlike you.”

Sighing inwardly, she shook her head.  “I’m fine,” she told him, hoping that he wouldn’t see right through her lie.  “Just a little tired.”

Yerik nodded slowly, eyes carefully trained straight ahead of them.  “You know, you could always sneak over to Fai’s room,” he told her.  “I don’t really think he’d mind, and, to be honest, I don’t think anyone else would notice, either.”

“W—I-I . . . No, it’s fine,” she muttered.  “I mean, it would be entirely improper, wouldn’t it?  And it’s only for a couple days . . .”

Yerik chuckled as they rounded a bend in the path, stepping through an opening in a six-foot hedge that ran in a circle, enclosing a large court.  The other side of the split path must have circled around the same way but in the opposite direction, because there was another opening directly across the circle, and Saori’s eyes widened.

In the center of the courtyard stood a beautiful little pond that almost reminded Saori of the koi ponds back home.  The entire thing was aglow with the tiniest net of lights, spread over the bottom under the water.  Those lights were all a single shade of the palest blue, and she couldn’t help the small giggle that slipped from her as she knelt beside the water’s edge, letting her fingertips dangle in it.

Yerik sighed, standing back, hands deep in the pockets of his slacks, but sometime since they’d stepped outside, he’d ditched his jacket, lost his tie, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt, and rolled up his sleeves a couple of times for good measure.  “If I thought that I could get away with it, I’d take you for a run,” he said.  “That’s what I do when I’m . . . _fine_ . . .”

She felt her back stiffen, and she winced.  He didn’t see it since she was facing the pond.  “I told you—”

“It’s okay, you know,” he interrupted gently and in the same conversational tone.  “If you don’t want to tell me, I get it.  Now, my guess is that it has something to do with Fai . . . I just thought that maybe some fresh air, some quiet, might be good for you.”

She stood up, flicking her fingers, sending droplets of water, flying from her hand.  Caught in the dancing network of lights, they sparkled and shimmered as they shot out over the pond and dropped back into the water once more.  “Will you walk with me a little longer?” she asked as she turned to face him again.

“Sure,” he replied, offering her a lopsided grin.  This time, he headed in the opposite direction from the cottegi.  She hadn’t noticed the opening in the hedges on this side, and little wonder why.  The path led to a less ordered, but still beautiful part of the garden—less formal and more freeform, and this one was simply accented with the occasional garden lamp, most of them masked by clumps of greenery, of small and less articulated trees . . . Clumps of wildflowers that meandered wherever they wanted, a few benches tucked away here and there—the perfect spot for quiet reflection, for reading a book, or for simply being alone . . .

“Can I ask you something?”

Yerik blinked, shot her a quick glance, almost as though he were surprised by her question.  “Okay,” he told her, veering toward a bench that stood in a cove between two small trees.

She sat down with him, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking, savoring the crisp evening air to drift over her cheeks, tossing the strands of her hair that had escaped the twist she’d pulled it up into before the party as she fussed with the hem of the short black dress she’d packed, ‘just in case’.  “Fai-sama . . . He raised you, right?”

He nodded.  “He did.”

“I know both of you said that,” she hurried on to say.  “It’s just . . . I wondered . . . What . . .? What kind of parent was he to you?”

“Parent?” he echoed, a sense of confusion, knitting his brows together.  Then he barked out a terse laugh, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands dangling between them.  “Well, I guess he kind of was, wasn’t he?  I just never really thought of it quite like that, I guess . . .”  He sighed, pondering her question more fully.  “He, um . . . He . . . rarely said, ‘no’ to me.  I mean, he did if it was something really stupid, but I’d ask him if he’d play with me, for example, and . . . and he always did.  I know, that seems like a dumb thing, but looking back now?  How busy was he?  How many times did I ask him to basically drop everything, and he always did . . . Never made me feel like a pest or a nuisance, and he really had to have thought it, at least, once in a while, right?  I guess, if I had to say, one way or the other . . . He was . . . He was a good one—a, uh . . . a parent, I mean.”

She frowned.  Somehow, Yerik’s answer confused her even more . . .

Yerik sighed.  “You know, Saori . . . I know that it’s really none of my business.  After all, I think I’d be a little offended if my younger brother tried to meddle in my, uh, affairs.  But . . . But there were a lot of times as I grew older that I’d realize things—things that I’m sure Fai had tried to hide from me.  Of course, he would, right?  I was just a pup, so I didn’t understand at the time . . . Anyway, as I grew older, I started to get it.  Fai . . . Fai dropped out of college to take care of me.  Between raising me and being tai-youkai, I wonder sometimes, how he found it in himself to do it all, and he did it alone.  I can’t remember ever having a nanny or anything, and I don’t remember Fai ever being far away from me, either . . .”

Trailing off, he shook his head, as though he were trying to figure out exactly how to say what it was on his mind.  In the end, he shot her an almost apologetic kind of smile, all lopsided and bashful and entirely endearing . . . “Fai never brought home women.  If he met with anyone on a regular basis, I never heard of it.  It’s not surprising, I guess, given that he’s always taken his station very seriously . . . but in the length of time that I’ve known you, I’ve heard my brother laugh—really laugh—more often than I can remember the whole time, growing up, and that has to mean something.  You . . . You have to mean something.”  Shaking his head, he chuckled softly.  “Anyway, I, uh . . . Thank you for that.”  Slipping an arm around her shoulders to give them a gentle squeeze, he kissed her temple before turning his attention upward again.  “Just . . . thanks . . .”

 

* * *

 

 

Fai surreptitiously flicked his wrist, tried to glance down at his watch without being too obvious about it as he sat in Evgeni’s office, along with a few other people that he didn’t know, but that Evgeni had introduced as business associates.  They were currently discussing the stock market, and Fai was actively considering sneaking away.

He’d seen Yerik pull Saori out into the gardens behind the _cottegi_ , and he’d seen when they’d slipped back inside once more an hour later.  Saori had seemed a lot more relaxed, too, which only made Fai wonder if he hadn’t imagined the subtle sense that something was bothering her before . . .

In any case, he really did want to go find her, to talk to her, to make sure that she was all right, and he’d been ready to do that a couple hours ago, only to be intercepted by Evgeni, who said that he had some associates he wanted Fai to meet.

A woman slipped into the room—Evgeni had introduced her as Katja Petrova.  She said nothing, striding straight over to Evgeni to whisper something in his ear.  Evgeni’s usual stern expression seemed to draw together in a thoughtful scowl, and he held up a hand for silence as his gaze locked with Fai’s.  “Your Grace, did Konstantin Korinovich issue you a challenge?”

Fai’s expression gave away nothing, despite the internal surprise that Evgeni had hears about that at all.  “He rescinded,” Fai replied evenly, almost carelessly.

Evgeni’s scowl darkened even more.  “You let him out of it?  Why would you do that?  What if he comes back later?  What if he spreads rumors about the entire affair?  Your reputation—”

“—Is just fine and will remain just fine,” Fai cut in.  “Turns out, he was fed a bunch of rumors.  I have since reassured him that his place—his father’s place—as regent is as secure now as it has ever been—not that I really need to explain my actions to you.  Last time I checked, I am not answerable to anyone—anyone but the Inu no Taisho, anyway.”

“Fai, surely you understand—”

“What else did she just tell you?” Fai cut in, flicking his gaze to the woman—Katja—for a mere second before meeting Evgeni’s once more.

Evgeni uttered a small chuckle.  “She’s got an uncanny ability to come by information; that’s all,” Then he sighed.  “I’m not trying to question your motives, but surely you can see just how questionable that could be.  Korinovich could well prove to be dangerous if left unchecked.  Siberia’s never been an easy region to govern—many of those who call it home are also the ones who seek to avoid undue notice.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Fai replied a little tightly.  “It’s entirely unnecessary.”

Evgeni nodded.  “Good, then . . . Oh, but I was wondering, how are the orphans’ placements going?  Has Saori been able to make any headway with that?”

“She’s looking through the list of potential adopters.  I imagine she’ll start making arrangements to have them come here to meet the children as soon as we go home.”

Evgeni’s eyebrows lifted in very obvious surprise.  “You’re leaving her in charge of the entire process?”

Fai shrugged, rising from his chair, moving off toward the wet bar to refill his glass.  “Of course, I am.  That’s why I hired her.”

‘ _Not the only reason, Fai._ ’

‘ _Not now,_ ’ Fai told his youkai-voice.

The voice snorted indelicately.

“But she’s so young . . . That’s a lot of responsibility for one who is little more than a child herself.”

“And yet, I hired her anyway,” he retorted dryly.

Another man in the room—Fai had already forgotten his name—laughed.  “Oh, come now, Geni . . . if I were His Grace, I’d have hired her, too.  By the way, is she single?”

Loosening his grip on the glass mere moments before it shattered in his hand, Fai had to tamp down the instant and violent surge of anger inspired by the man’s misplaced question.  “I hired her because she is quite capable of doing the task I asked her to do,” he replied without turning away from the wet bar.

“Well, I did notice that your younger brother seemed to have taken an interest in her,” the last man remarked.  “Maybe not single for long, eh?”

Gritting his teeth, Fai turned around, deliberately taking his time as he sipped the vodka.  “Surely there’s something more interesting to discuss other than the young lady I hired?” he asked, pinning Evgeni with a very pointed stare.  “If not, then I will retire for the night.”

Evgeni nodded slowly.  “Well, if you want my opinion on the subject of the regents . . . You’ve already lost a few of them.  Do you really need to have them at all?  Your father never had use for them.  You’re strong enough without their backing.  Get rid of them, I say.”

“I have no intention of usurping the regents,” Fai said, turning far enough to set the empty glass on the sideboard.  “I’m tired, Evgeni.  Thank you for an enjoyable evening.”

That said, he started out of the room with every intention of finding Saori, to at least speak to her, even if he wasn’t at all sure that he ought to try to tempt fate by sleeping in the same room as her.

Evgeni fell into step beside him in the hallway, heading back toward the great hall once more.  “I understand your feelings regarding the regents,” he said as the headed for the grand staircase.  “But how do you know you can trust them—especially the likes of Konstantin Korinovich and his father?”

“It’s not open to discussion, Geni,” he warned in a tone that should have left no room for debate.

The griffon-vulture-youkai looked about as frustrated as it was possible for him to look, eyes narrowing as he puffed up his chest, but he let the subject drop, only to bring up another one entirely.  “I was told the other day that Ian MacDonnough might be willing to buy the rights to the area on his side of the continent.”

Fai stopped in his tracks for a second before striding down the hallway toward the bedroom he’d been given for his stay.  “No.”

“Be reasonable, Fai . . . He’s offering what you desperately need: money—a lot of it, and all he wants is the European side of Russia—the western Slavic nations . . . It’s not that big of an area, and really, it would give you that much less to have to worry about.”

“I said no,” Fai stated once more, stepping over the threshold of the bedroom, starting to close the door.

Evgeni grabbed it before Fai could close it completely.  “Just think about it, please.  If things keep on the way they are now . . .”

“I am well aware of my finances,” he said.  “Now, I’m tired, and you’ve got that hunt planned early tomorrow, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed.”

Evgeni didn’t look entirely pleased, but he nodded.  “Then I bid you sleep well, Your Grace.”

Finally, blessedly, Fai closed the door.  Hand over part of his jurisdiction?  No, that wouldn’t be happening, and he didn’t rightfully care if the money would help or not.  Sell off parts of his jurisdiction?  The idea unleased a rage in him that erupted in a low, vicious growl.

Auctioning off pieces of his father’s empire?  “ _Never_ ,” he hissed under his breath.

Pacing the length of the room and back, he struggled to get a tight grip on his anger.  It didn’t really work.  The longer he thought about it, the angrier he grew, and the angrier he grew, the more he needed to rip something to shreds . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Emi ——— AvinPhi ——— xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— Amanda Gauger
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lovethedogs ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _Sell off bits and pieces?  I don’t think so_ …


	40. 39: Ivan Kupala

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_39_** ~~  
~ ** _Ivan Kupala_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori bit her lip, shot Yerik a nervous glance as they knelt on the balcony, overlooking the gardens below where people milled about, enjoying the Kupala Eve celebrations.  The holiday—a long-standing pagan tradition, celebrating the god of fertility and purity always held on the summer solstice—the longest day of the year—had become the celebration of John the Baptist, also known as Ivan Kupala, after Christianity had spread into the region centuries ago.  It still retained many of the old traditions, however, with an emphasis on purity and fertility, focusing largely on the use and imagery of water and the purifying properties of it.  This day, however, was Tvorila night—the night of good humor and mischief—and Yerik, still caught up between being a pup and becoming an adult, had roused Saori out of bed just before the crack of dawn with a bucket of used bathwater in an effort to get her to go swim with him since it was a well-known fact that the most purifying swims should always be taken at dawn . . .

And since that shocking wake up call, here they’d been, hiding on the balcony, waiting for unwitting targets that they could pour water on, hence making them participate in the purifying swimming in the nearby lake . . .

“I suppose we ought to be a little sorry for this,” Yerik remarked in a hushed tone as he scanned the area below.

“You don’t _sound_ sorry at all—and why didn’t you douse your brother instead of me?” she demanded, also careful to keep her voice low.

Yerik chuckled.  “Are you kidding?  They already left for their hunt well before dawn,” he explained.  “Asked me if I wanted to go, but . . . spending hours with Evgeni and his band of peacocks?  I’ll pass.”

“You . . . You don’t like him?” she asked, rising up, carefully taking aim with her bucket as the woman who had been fawning all over Fai at the party last night stopped conveniently under the balcony.

Yerik shrugged, standing up, helping her to steady the cumbersome wooden bucket.  “It’s more that he’s just . . . _boring_ ,” he explained.  “Oh, look!  There!  One . . . two . . . three . . .”

And they tipped the bucket in one fluid motion before dropping back down once more, hands over mouths to stifle the giggles as the woman shrieked in surprise when the water struck true.  Saori collapsed against Yerik’s shoulder, her face turning an unsightly shade of red with her efforts to contain her overall amusement since she could hear the woman’s rapid and outraged words, and she didn’t dare lean toward the railing, lest she could be discerned.

Yerik chuckled.  “Maybe we should go down, see what the locals are up to,” he suggested.  It was the one time of year, he’d told her, that Evgeni opened his estate to the people in the local village, and they flocked here in droves, some of them, handing out flower and herb garlands along with garlands for the young ladies to set adrift, while others were gathered around bonfires, singing songs and visiting as boys competed against one another to see who could jump the highest over the burning fires . . .

It was a time of revelry and celebration, of merriment and hope.  It wasn’t unusual for people to bring shirts of their ailing loved ones, too, to cast them into the flames in the hopes that it would purge the sickness from the afflicted ones, and, though it may not really help, having faith was a precious thing, too . . .

Setting the bucket aside, Yerik gestured for Saori to follow him as he squat-scooted toward the balcony doors, just in case the woman wasn’t done berating them.  She crawled after him, both of them laughing in low tones until they closed the doors.  Saori collapsed, laughing so hard that her stomach hurt and her eyes watered while Yerik rolled onto his back, unleashing a deep belly laugh. They stayed that way for a few minutes, and it might have ended sooner, but every time one of them managed to stop, the other one would burst into another round of laughter, dragging each other along.

By the time they finally managed to wind down, they were both gasping for breath, wiping their eyes.  Yerik was the first to speak.  “I don’t remember the last time I laughed that hard,” he admitted, shaking his head slowly, as though he didn’t believe what he was saying.

“Me, either,” she said, wrapping her arms over her stomach with a low groan.  “Oh, I hurt . . .”

Yerik chuckled and stood up, extending a hand to help her to her feet.  “Come on.  You need one of those wreaths, right?”

“Do I?” she asked, allowing him to pull her up.

He shrugged, letting go of her hand as he poked his head into the hallway, as though he were making sure that they weren’t about to be waylaid.  The coast was clear, so he pushed the door open and stepped back to allow Saori to pass him.

“Sure, you do.  You’re not married or anything . . . Of course, you’re going to want to set your garland adrift.  Maybe . . . Maybe some young man will manage to snare it before it sinks, and then you’ll have to marry him.”

She rolled her eyes despite the sparkle still in her eyes.  “You don’t have to marry the one who does that,” she countered.

He chuckled.  “That’s true, but you’ll break his heart if you don’t . . .”

“Do you really think there’s any truth to all of that?”

Yerik shrugged.  “You never know, do you?  I mean, it’s entirely possible that there is some.  Let’s go see if there are any fortune tellers down there.  There’s usually one or two at these things, anyway.  We’ll see if they can’t make any predictions about you.”

She wrinkled her nose as they descended the staircase.  “Only if you do it, too,” she said.

“Okay,” he agreed.  “Not that I’m going to find my mate or that I’m even remotely interested in looking for one at this point, but maybe they’ll know where I can go later when I’m ready.”

Saori nodded.  She supposed she could understand that.  After all, Yerik was still only eighteen years old.  There was plenty of time for him to worry about something like that, especially when he didn’t really need or want the distraction of a woman in his life at this point while he was out on a hunt . . .

Venturing through the opulent great hall, lined with various statues, pedestals with beautiful antique vases . . . Very old paintings, bathed in softened spotlights—even a couple Cain Zelig pieces that Saori recognized simply by the style of the paintings . . . Evgeni was not shy about showing his wealth . . .

“Oh, Master Yerik!  Saori!  Good morning,” Arrida Feodosova greeted as she hurried forward to intercept the two of them.  The golden-fox-youkai smiled warmly, her pretty face, bright and eager as she grasped Saori’s hands and gave them a welcoming squeeze.  She wasn’t a kitsune; those did not exist outside of Japan without direct lineage.  It struck Saori again, just how vastly different the woman was from her mate, Evgeni.  Impossibly friendly, warm, she had been genuinely pleased and had taken the time to chat with Saori awhile last night when she and Yerik had returned from their sojourn in the gardens.  Then she’d gone out of her way to introduce Saori to most of the women in attendance, as well.  She was as sweet and kind as Evgeni was brusque and even a little foreboding, but she brushed that thought aside as she returned Arrida’s smile.  “I trust you slept well?” she asked, including both of them in her question.

“Absolutely,” Yerik replied with very welcoming smile.

“Thank you,” Saori replied.  “I did.”  That was a lie, but that had nothing at all to do with her room and everything to do with the idea that Fai . . . He hadn’t even stopped in to say good night . . .

Arrida seemed entirely pleased by their answers, however, her bright green eyes sparkling even more as her giggled.  “You know, the ladies and I were getting ready to have some tea in the solar,” she remarked. “Would you like to join us?”

“Oh,” Saori exclaimed, casting Yerik a quick glance.  “I would love to, but, umm . . . I was going to go outside with Yerik-kun . . . Take a look around . . .”

“If you’d rather, that’s fine,” Yerik told her.

Arrida seemed to believe that the entire thing was settled, and she grasped Saori’s arm and started to lead her away.  “The men should be back from the hunt soon,” she called over her shoulder.  “I will assume you’re not interested in sitting around with a bunch of gossiping women, after all.”

 Yerik’s soft chuckle sounded behind them, and Saori frowned.  She hadn’t bothered to get dressed in anything special, really—just a pair of tan slacks and a pale pink blouse.  Arrida, however, was turned out in a rather proper day dress befitting the festive occasion.

“Should I go change?” Saori blurted before they could cross the threshold into the bright and airy sun room that Arrida had called the solar.

Arrida blinked, pausing long enough to give Saori a quick once-over.  “You’re fine,” she assured her, her smile returning.  “Lovely, in fact!  To tell you the truth, I was looking for you, you know.”

Saori blinked.  “You were?”

Arrida nodded enthusiastically.  “Well, my dear friend, Ekaterina has a son who couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off you last night, so she wanted to get to know you better . . .”

“Oh, uh—”

If Arrida noticed her sudden reluctance, she ignored it.  “Now, come on!  Besides, Ekaterina’s son?  He’s a very accomplished man, even if he isn’t very old . . .”

She tried to think of a reason to back out of the invitation to attend tea.  It was too late, however, as Arrida herded her toward the women, milling around the solar, chatting in small groups.  At least some of them weren’t dressed any fancier than Saori was, and that was a small relief.  Even so . . .

A huge knot formed deep in her belly, and Saori could only wish that she’d opted to go wandering with Yerik instead . . .

 

* * *

 

 

“How was hunting?”

Sparing a moment to pin his younger brother with an entirely longsuffering kind of stare, Fai tried to weave through the milling crowd in his effort to get back to the _cottegi_ —and to find Saori.

He’d been too irritated to go to her last night.  It had taken everything in him to keep his temper in check.  The idea that Evgeni would even propose the idea that Fai might consider selling a part of his jurisdiction, especially to the likes of Ian MacDonnough?

Even thinking about it now was enough to send his temper soaring, all over again.

“That bad?” Yerik deadpanned when Fai didn’t answer him.

Fai leaned to the side to avoid a bunch of children who were running along the same path.  “It was fine,” he replied, figuring that it wasn’t worth repeating.  Given that Evgeni had studiously avoided any so-called, ‘shop talk’ during the hunt was but a small reprieve in his estimation, anyway . . .

‘ _You know, Evgeni’s grown more vocal with his . . . concerns . . . of late . . ._ ’ his youkai remarked thoughtfully.  ‘ _Perhaps you should remind him where his place is in the grand scheme of things?  Friend or not, he openly criticized your policies last night in front of the others in the room . . . You’re letting him be a little too complacent, don’t you think?_ ’

He sighed inwardly.  Yes, his youkai had a very valid point.  Of course, he understood that Evgeni tended to be passionate in his views, and Fai didn’t begrudge him that.  Arguing with him in front of others, however . . . That was very, very different.

“You haven’t heard a thing I’ve said, have you?”

Blinking away the thoughts that had so thoroughly preoccupied him, Fai shot Yerik a quick glance, only to find his brother, frowning at him.  “I beg your pardon.  You were saying?”

Yerik wasn’t at all impressed with Fai’s question.  “I was telling you not to bother going to find Saori.  Arrida has her ensconced in some boring as hell tea party with the rest of the womenfolk, so the odds that you can get to her without raising a lot of eyebrows—female eyebrows, at that—are slim and none.”

And didn’t that just figure, too?  Here he was, in a hurry to go and find her, to possibly steal a few minutes alone with her, but no, because if he did go marching in there, demanding to see her, those women would start talking, and, while he didn’t much care what they said, there was a logical order to things . . .

‘ _Because you’re trying to be a gentleman or because you’re tai-youkai?  You know, if it’s because you’re tai-youkai, that’s one thing, but the gentleman thing?  You realize that this is the twenty-first century.  You’re not going to besmirch her character just because you want to talk to her.  At worst, they’ll think you’re a spoiled brat who has to have Saori’s undivided attention, and some of the ladies will probably think that’s terribly sweet—romantic, even.  Some of the others will probably think that you’re entirely needy or have some unresolved mommy issues, Oedipus . . ._ ’

‘ _You’re . . . really not even slightly amusing.  You know that, right?  And I meant as the tai-youkai._ ’

His youkai laughed.  ‘ _I don’t need to be . . . So, what are you protecting her from, exactly?_ ’

‘ _What do you think?  Whispers . . . Rumors . . . Threats . . ._ ’

‘ _Threats . . . Hmm, okay, I’ll give you that one.  No better way to get to the tai-youkai than to get to his mate, right?_ ’

Fai’s eyes flashed open wide, and he stopped abruptly, like he’d just walked into an invisible wall.  ‘ _My . . .?_ ’

‘ _Oh, come on, Fai!  You can’t tell me you didn’t already realize it on some level.  That woman . . . She completes you . . . But yes, I can understand entirely, what you mean . . . You’ve got way too many enemies—enemies that you don’t even know of yet, and if they found out about Saori, or worse, if they find out who her family is?_ ’

He gritted his teeth and started walking again as his youkai-voice’s words tumbled over and over in his head.  Sometimes, he really hated being tai-youkai.  This was definitely one of those times . . .

 

* * *

 

 

“Fai, you have got to help me.”

Looking up from his reflection in the standing mirror as he tugged on the shirt that he’d set out after his shower, Fai blinked as Yerik slammed into his room and slumped back against the door.  Green eyes wide, almost . . . scared . . .? he looked like he might well have seen the devil himself.  He hadn’t seen that look on Yerik’s face since he was eight and had gotten angry enough to kick Vasili in the shin when the butler reminded him that he needed to straighten his room since the staff had been forbidden to do it for him, and if that weren’t enough, the unmistakable throb in Yerik’s youki was enough to make Fai turn on his heel to offer his brother his undivided attention.

“Well, I know Vasili’s not here, so you can’t have kicked him again.  Why do you look like that?”

Yerik grimaced as he pushed himself away from the door and cleared his throat.  “Do you remember Liliya Herzikova?”

Shifting his eyes as he lifted his gaze heavenward, Fai tried to place the familiar-sounding name.  “No, I . . . Oh, wait . . . Isn’t she the little girl that you asked to marry you when you were, like, five?”

Yerik nodded.  “That’s her.”

Fai shook his head.  “What about her.”

Yerik sighed.  It was a long, drawn out, almost defeated kind of sound.  “She’s here.”

“So?”

Yerik snorted.  “So . . . She thinks we’re engaged, and she’s . . . You know, she might have a lovely personality, Fai, but . . . but . . .”

It took everything within Fai to keep from laughing outright at his brother’s horrified expression.  In the end, he had to clear his throat to keep from doing so before he spoke again.  “How the devil does she even remember that?  You were, what?  Five?”

Yerik snorted again. “She’s a _woman_ ; that’s how!”

Fai sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he slowly shook his head.  “Well, then, there’s no helping it, Yerik.”

“What do you mean?”

Fai shot his brother a rather bald look.  “I mean, you proposed.  You’re going to have to marry her.”

“. . . _What?_ ” he barked.

Fai shrugged.  “You can’t go around, breaking girls’ hearts.  It’s bad form.  I’m sure she’s a perfectly lovely—”

Yerik erupted in a menacing growl, grabbing Fai by the shirt and dragging him over to the door that he inched open just far enough to allow them both to see outside into the hallway—Yerik hunkering down so that Fai could see over his head.

Fai blinked, watching as a rather . . . _robust_ young woman, all decked out in a lot of white tulle, paced nearby.  When she started to turn, to look toward the door, Yerik slammed the door closed once more as Fai jerked back to keep his nose from being caught in the sudden slam.  That done, Yerik stood up straight, using one arm to yank a gesture at the closed door as he raised his eyebrows and pinned Fai with another pleading look.

“So . . . you’re saying she’s . . . too much woman for you . . .?”

Draping his hands on his hips, Yerik glowered at Fai.  “You’re being a jackass,” he pointed out.

Fai rolled his eyes, heaved a sigh.  “Relax, Yerik.  You were five.  No one in their right mind would hold you to a proposal you made when you were five.”

Yerik snorted.  “Her mother hugged me to welcome me to the family.”

“Wow . . . She involved her mother?”

Yerik nodded glumly.

“And her father?”

Yerik’s jaw was ticking.  “Her father wants me to take her name so that I can take over the family business.”

“What kind of family business?”

“Beets,” Yerik replied.  “They own . . . a beet farm—no, a beet _empire_ , according to her father.”

Fai shook his head.  “So . . . You’re going to be . . . King of Beets?”

“Fai . . .”

Fai held up his hands to placate his brother.  “It could have at least been potatoes,” he said. “That’s all I’m saying . . . Free supply for the distillery . . .”

Yerik grunted.  “I would charge you double,” he grumbled.  “Now, seriously, how do I get out of it?”

“I am being serious!  Just tell her that you were five; you didn’t mean it—and to be frank, they’re a little looney if they honestly think you did.”

Yerik grimaced.  “I . . . might have said that she was my . . . mate . . .”

“Now or when you were five?”

“Fai!”

“It’s the logical question!  Why would you even say that?  How did you come up with that back then?”

Yerik sighed.  “I . . . I wanted her to kiss me,” he admitted.  “And even then, it wasn’t that good—just a peck on the cheek.”

“And that’s why you sold your soul to the King of Beets?  Damn, Yerik . . .”

“A kiss on the cheek was a pretty big deal in my mind back then . . .”

“I think I should have beaten you more as a child,” Fai remarked.  “Did you at least get to see her panties?”

Yerik narrowed his eyes.  “It didn’t occur to me at the time, no.”

Fai stared at his brother for a long moment.  Then he sighed and jerked his head toward the door.  “All right. Come on.  Let’s go end your engagement.”

Yerik finally let out a deep breath and followed Fai to the door.

He started to open it, but stopped, craning his neck to peer over his shoulder at him.  “Yerik . . .”

“Hmm?”

“Are there any other engagements that I should be aware of?”

Yerik rolled his eyes, reaching up to rub the back of his neck in a decidedly nervous kind of way.  “Well, maybe a few more,” he admitted.  Then he grinned.  “Hopefully they’re smart enough to realize that I didn’t actually mean it . . .”

Fai grunted.  “Okay, but promise me you’ll stop using offers of marriage to get what you want from women?  It’s frowned upon, you know.”

Yerik’s grin turned a little wolfish.  “I haven’t done it since I was . . . ten . . . Damn shame, though, because it worked . . .”

Fai narrowed his eyes.  “Do you want out of this, Yerik?”

Yerik nodded quickly.  “Yes, I do.  So sorry.  I promise.  I swear.”

Fai heaved a deep breath, but yanked the door open and stepped into the hallway . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Thanks, those who commented.  It means a lot to me_!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** — — —
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** minthegreen ——— Amanda Gauger
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _I should have made him marry her_ …


	41. 40: Fern Flower

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_40_** ~~  
~ ** _Fern Flower_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori smiled to herself as she watched the young people, assembling near the forest, up and down the line of trees.  It was a sight to see, she thought: girls, all turned out in their pretty dresses . . . young men with bright eyes and bashful smiles . . . To her, they rather resembled the storybook pictures of fairies or nymphs, playing in the darkened night . . . Torches driven deep in the ground illuminated the night in regular intervals as moths and other night bugs flitted around the dancing flames . . .

It was almost time for the search for the elusive fern flower—a flower of lore that was said to bloom only once a year: at midnight on the night of Ivan Kupala.  It was said that anyone who saw the flower would get their wish—anything they wished—that it was a symbol of prosperity, luck, the ability to know right from wrong, and power.  Legend said that the flower would point to a hidden treasure, a gift of whatever the heart desired . . .

Traditionally, the search was left to the young, the unmarried maidens with wreathes of flowers in their hair, and the young men who were looking for love.  The maidens would be the first to enter the forest, and the men would follow.  They’d forage together, and if they were lucky, they’d find the fern flower, and if they were luckier still, they might find true love in their search, too . . .

“Aren’t you going in?”

Blinking as she turned to smile at Yerik, she shrugged.  “I . . . I don’t think so,” she said, biting her lip, trying not to sound or look disappointed.  “Did you get un-engaged?”

“Fai’s talking to her father now,” he said.  “He . . . wasn’t too happy about ending it.  Seems that he was banking on the idea that she was going to marry the tai-youkai’s brother . . .”

“Well, I hope you learned your lesson,” she said, shaking her head sternly, crossing her arms over her chest as she tried not to smile since it really was a rather amusing thing . . . Still, on some level, she felt sorry for the girl.  Of course, common logic might have dictated that, really, a proposal offered when they were just children couldn’t actually hold any kind of weight.  Even so, she couldn’t entirely discount it.  After all, that was the kind of thing that little girls’ dreams were made of, wasn’t it?

“Lesson learned, absolutely,” he said with a wolfish grin and an incorrigible wink.

“Okay, you’re off the hook, Yerik.  When fiancees: two through five show up, you’re on your own,” Fai growled, striding over to cast his brother a very put-upon scowl.  “Saori . . . You look . . . wonderful . . .”

She ducked her chin, held out the skirt of the rather simple, but pretty white dress.  The skirt was a full concoction of white organza kerchiefs sewn together in such a way that it wasn’t at all sheer or see-through but maintained a hazy solid color and still moved so gracefully, so perpetually, that it seemed as though it were flowing.  The bodice was fitted well, and the small cap sleeves were made in the same design as the skirt, albeit with much smaller kerchiefs, and the overall effect was pretty stunning, even if she did say so herself . . .

“Excuse us, Yerik.  Don’t propose to anyone while we’re gone,” Fai said, taking Saori’s hand to lead her toward the forest.

“Wait . . . You’re going into the forest?” Yerik asked, sounding rather incredulous.

“Yes, Yerik, I am,” he said, giving Saori’s hand a little tug to get her moving.

“Oh, I . . . I don’t have a wreath,” she protested weakly, unsure if she wanted to go along with this or not.

He stopped, held up a beautiful wreath of ivy and salt-and-pepper baby’s breath and sweet little white rosebuds that she hadn’t noticed before.  Gently, he placed it on her head, fussed with it for a minute.  “You have one now,” he remarked.  “You don’t want to miss this, do you?”

She gnawed on her lower lip, slowly shook her head.  On the one hand, this was one of the parts of Ivan Kupala that she had looked forward to the most.  On the other?  Those questions that had plagued her since their arrival . . . She still didn’t know what to make of them, what to think . . . And . . .

But . . . But Fai . . . He looked almost . . .

‘ _Almost . . . what . . .?_ ’

‘ _He seems almost . . . excited, doesn’t he?  Like . . ._ ’

‘ _Like . . . Like he_ wants _to do this . . ._ ’

He reached up, fussed with the circlet of flowers once more, fiddling with her hair, arranging her bangs, tucking her hair behind her right ear . . . Then he smiled a very small smile, but one that stunted her breathing, left her tinging where his fingertips had lingered against her skin . . .

“Go on,” he coaxed gently, jerking his head toward the forest.

She turned, watched as the other girls stepped into the trees.  She glanced over her shoulder at him: he was standing in the same place, hands tucked into his pockets.  He nodded once, and she turned back, drawing a deep breath as she followed the others into the wayward darkness.

The forest itself had been lit for the occasion, too: more of those tiny fairy lights, large LED lanterns fashioned to look like they’d been there forever on stone pedestals that lit the area here and there . . . Around the large lanterns were some smaller ones—ones that could easily be lifted and carried to light the way.  Saori didn’t take one as she ventured past the first pedestal.

Something about the forest felt magical, alive.  Maybe it was just the auras of the others—the underlying sense of excitement as they searched for a flower that did not really exist.  It couldn’t, actually.  Ferns were spore-reproducing plants.  Biologically speaking, they could not flower.  Even so, the lore was so precious, and, on a night like this one, it was enough to make one want to forget the science of it, even as a silly little hope spurred her on.

“ _Well, whether I want them or not, it’s kind of part and parcel with the title_ . . .”

Those words, whispered in her head, were enough to stop her in her tracks.  The excitement she’d felt mere moments before seemed to evaporate before her eyes.  Rubbing her forearms—the falling night temperatures were suddenly very apparent—she shuffled forward a few more steps.

‘ _Ask yourself this then: is this a deal-breaker for you?  Supposing he really doesn’t want children or more than one child . . . Is that enough for you to want to walk away from him?_ ’ her youkai asked in a gentle tone, almost as though it were trying to buffer her on some level.

She sighed, arms dropping to her sides as she wandered deeper into the trees.  She couldn’t sense anyone near her, and that was fine, too.  It was the most solitude she’d been afforded since arriving, really—a perfect time to think . . .

It wasn’t so much that she had to have a houseful of children, she supposed.  In a perfect world, she wouldn’t mind having a large family, but she really didn’t want more than one or two at a time.  She wanted them to be her focus, and the more children she had at one time, the less of her attention she’d be able to devote to each one.  Fai would have to have at least one child, and that wasn’t the issue; not really.  The real issue was . . . if he didn’t really want children, then just what kind of father would he be . . .?

She . . . She just didn’t know, and that was the part that was so hard to deal with.  If he didn’t want children, would he at least try to humor her and the child?  Or would he be the kind of father who closed himself away in his office all day, content to leave the raising of said-child to her discretion?  Certainly, he wouldn’t be cruel or anything like that, but wasn’t apathy just as hard to deal with in the end?  Children, after all, weren’t stupid creatures.  They’d sense it—they’d know—whether or not they were wanted . . .

And the real question she had to ask herself was if she could deal with any of those scenarios, and regardless of how she felt about Fai . . .

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

She gasped, whipped around, only to come, face to face with Fai as he stepped out of the trees behind her.  He had grabbed one of the small lanterns that cast a bluish-tinted glow, bathing everything in an ethereal kind of light.  He stepped toward her, held up his free hand.  She stared at it for a moment before slipping hers into it.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he said as he led her deeper into the trees with no real destination in mind.  “Why are you so pensive?”

She didn’t know how to answer that, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to talk about it, either: to ask him the one question that was driving her insane.  It wasn’t okay, was it?  To demand answers about something like that . . . She had no right to ask because she had no right to try to negotiate if his answer was one she didn’t care to hear because if the tables were turned, if she felt that strongly about something, then she’d resent it if he tried to reason with her, tried to change her mind because it wasn’t something he believed or wanted, too . . .

Fai sighed.  “This is the first time I’ve done this,” he admitted quietly.

She blinked.  “The first time?  Why?”

He shrugged.  “Never met anyone I wanted to follow into the forest before . . .”

“But you’re supposed to look for the fern flower . . . It’s supposed to grant you luck and clarity and . . .”

He sighed.  “It’s a little different, I guess, when you’re tai-youkai—or will be one day.  You’re always . . . hyper-aware of everything—of how things appear, of how you’re perceived . . . Father told me that I should hold back, that things like this could lead to rumors, to innuendo that you’ll have to deal with later . . . So, it was easier, just to avoid it . . .”

She considered that, unsure, exactly, what he was trying to say or if he was trying to say anything in particular.  “But you . . . You wanted to this year . . .?”

“Well, I . . . I mean, you . . . It’s your first Ivan Kupala,” he replied, downplaying his part in it.  “Besides, I’ve barely seen you today, so . . .”

“And . . . And you wanted to spend time with me?”

He didn’t answer her, but he did give her fingers a little squeeze.

They wandered a little farther, the lantern casting misshapen shadows upon the dense foliage.  The fairy lights still lit some of the tree trunks, and she had to admit that the overall effect was entirely sweet, mesmerizing . . .

“There was one year,” he said, his voice soft, “Yerik was small—maybe seven?  And he was so excited, he ran into the trees before I could stop him.  I ran to find him, only to discover that one of the maidens had caught him and was leading him around . . . What are the odds that he didn’t propose to her, too?”

She laughed, despite her own troubled thoughts.  Somehow, in her head, she could see Yerik doing that . . . “So, what did you do?”

A strange kind of expression settled over his features: an amusement that was somehow tinged with a sense of sadness, too.  “What could I do?  I let him stay with the girl.  She didn’t seem to mind, anyway.  Yerik swore that he saw the fern flower—that it was this great, glowing red flower that rose higher and higher, that it burst open with sparks and flames and all of that . . . Of course, he was seven, and . . . and ferns don’t flower.  Even so, I always thought that whatever he saw . . . I kind of hoped that it was real . . .”

He laughed suddenly, an almost embarrassed kind of sound, shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders in an almost offhanded way.  “That . . . really seems rather stupid, doesn’t it?  But I always thought that my own children—that I would find a way to make it happen—to make it so that they would always see the fern flower . . . I mean, I’m tai-youkai, right?  Nature bends to my will, so if that’s the case, then . . . Then can’t I make it be so?  Just for one night?”

She stopped in her tracks, her heart slamming hard against her ribcage.  The question that had plagued her for the last couple days, and he . . . His own children . . .? He . . . He wanted to ensure that they . . . that they could believe in magic because . . .? It almost sounded as if . . . “Fai?”

“Hmm?”

She swallowed hard, placed a hand over her heart in an effort to calm her racing pulse.  “You . . . You _do_ want children, don’t you?”

He shot her a quick, questioning glance, but he shrugged.  “Well, yes . . . One day, anyway.  Right now, everything’s so . . .”

That made sense to her.  Given how volatile things really were in Asia as a whole, she really couldn’t fault him for feeling as though he wanted to wait to start a real family . . . But he did _want_ that family eventually, and that . . . That was enough for her.

The pall that had settled over her seemed to evaporate, and even the air in the forest felt lighter, freer . . . warmer and far more inviting . . . Suddenly, she wanted to laugh—really laugh—to throw her head back and dance and laugh and maybe even sing . . . She didn’t do any of those things, but she did hold onto Fai’s hand just a little tighter, a little more securely . . .

He sighed.  “I realized when I was raising Yerik that children . . . They believe things. They don’t need proof.  If you tell them something, they just believe it.  It sounds stupid, doesn’t it?  But . . . But it’s a reminder of everything that is possible, even when you know that it’s simply all illusion.  I . . . I sometimes wish that my father had allowed me to believe things just a little longer.  I understand why he didn’t.  Reality is powerful—just as powerful as belief.  Mother . . . She tried to get Father to bend on it, but he said that fairy tales would not help me lead the youkai.  He was right, sure . . . Still . . .”

“And you don’t agree with that?”

The look on his face bespoke his conflicted feelings on the matter.  She supposed she could understand that.  “I can appreciate my father’s thoughts, but . . . But I don’t think I agree.”  He grimaced.  “I don’t think he was a bad parent.  I just . . . I . . . I don’t know.  I guess, having watched Yerik grow up, I see it from a different perspective.  I wasn’t his father, but I . . .”

“I don’t know,” she ventured.  “Maybe not officially, but do you think he remembers being raised by anyone else?  He said . . . He said he doesn’t remember them—your parents.  What he remembers is you, Fai . . .”

He blinked, his brows knitting together as he pondered what she’d said.  “He never . . . He’s never told me that before—that he doesn’t remember our parents.  I thought as much, but never asked, and . . .” He winced.  “That hurts.  It’s not his fault, and I don’t blame him.  He was just a . . . a toddler back then . . . but . . .”  He sighed, shook his head, and in that moment, he allowed her to feel it: his sadness, his pain—pain he’d carried around for years, that he held onto so selfishly, not because he was afraid or ashamed or anything, but because the last thing he wanted was for his own grief to burden anyone else . . . “They loved him,” he whispered.  “They _loved_ him . . .”

She stopped, pulled her hand away from him as she turned to look at him.  Reaching out, touching his face, hating the idea that there wasn’t really anything she could do for him, she did the only thing that she could think of: she slipped her arms around him, wishing that there was something more—something _better_ —anything at all . . .

He wrapped his arm around her, still holding onto the lantern with the other, but he accepted the comfort she afforded him with a sigh, with a grimace, with an easy acquiescence that she could feel.

“Stay with me, Saori,” he murmured, burying his lips in her hair.  “Never leave me?”

“I won’t,” she promised, her voice muffled by his shirt, by his body, as she held him tight.  “Fai?”

“Hmm?”

She leaned away, far enough that she could look up into his eyes.  The colors seemed to sparkle, to flow, one into another in the hazy, bluish-white light of the lamp.  There were so many things, all there in his gaze . . . A part of her understood those unspoken things.  A part of her didn’t need words, anyway.  “I . . . I want my children to believe, too,” she said.  “Even if it’s something as silly as a fern flower, I want them to believe . . .”

He didn’t smile, but his eyes seemed to brighten.  Then he dropped his arm away, reached behind himself to pull her hand free.  “Come on.  You . . . You’ll like this.”

She followed him, her gaze falling to her hand, clasped in his.  It wasn’t a normal gesture for the Japanese, no, and wasn’t exactly a normal one for the Russians, come to think of it.  For some reason, though, as long as it was Fai, she was all right with it, as he led her deeper into the forest.

They stepped out of a particular dense patch of foliage, and Saori blinked, slowly turning, taking it all in.  They were still in the forest, but the area was more of a small clearing, but not quite.  In the center of it stood a thick cluster of ferns—easily the largest plants she’d ever seen, and Fai set the lantern on a tallish tree stump before slipping his arms around her, gently pulling her back against his chest.  “I always imagined that, if the flower did appear, it would do so here,” he said to her, his voice barely audible, even though he spoke directly into her ear.  “It seems like the most appropriate place . . .”

“And it would appear . . . right there,” she said, pointing at the tallest growth in the middle of the cluster.

“I’d think so,” he said, letting go of her long enough to bring his arm up, checking the time.  “If it’s going to appear, it’ll be in about five minutes . . .”

She turned her head, leaned to the side to see his face.  “I thought you said you’ve never done this before.  How did you know about this place?”

He shrugged.  “I haven’t done this before,” he reiterated.  “I’ve been in this forest lots of times, though.”

Turning her gaze back to the ferns once more, she figured that it made sense, though the idea that Fai had actually been considering it when he saw this area?  Somehow, that was beyond adorable, in her estimation . . .

“Do you think we’ll see it?” she whispered, almost afraid to raise her voice as the sounds of the forest surrounded them.  It was so peaceful, so magical . . . and she wasn’t entirely sure, but she had a feeling that it had everything to do with Fai’s presence . . .

He sighed, his breath, stirring her hair that had escaped the intricate braid that Arrida’s stylist had arranged.  The warmth sent a shiver down her spine, and he wrapped his arms a little tighter around her.  “Well, if we believe science, then no.  But . . .”

She watched in silence as he held out his hand, palm up.  After a moment, she slipped one of her hands onto his, also palm up, and she gasped as a quiet hum erupted in her ears.  A moment later, a wispy tendril, then two, rose from their hands above her palm: one of them, a hazy burnished gold, the other, an iridescent, pearly white—Saori’s ceremonial color.  “Is that . . .?”

Fai nodded.  “My color, yes.”

She gasped as the thin wisps thickened, twisted around each other, undulating as the colors started to mix: an opalescent gold that swelled and surged.  It looked like a bud, didn’t it?  She shook her head, unsure if she believed what she was seeing.

And then, the petals of the flower burst open, unleashing a sparkling shower of glittering dust as the blossom burned bright, slowly turning above their hands like a hologram . . . Thick, long, pointed petals that curled back, revealing a lush ring of smaller petals as the delicate, glowing bloom shed more sprinkles, like diamond dust in the dark . . .

“That’s our flower, Saori,” he whispered in her ear.

She laughed softly, her eyes glowing in the light of the blossom.  “Our fern flower . . .”

He laughed, too.  “Yes.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Thanks for the reviews, y’all!  Greatly appreciated, more than you really know_!  
>  _Till Monday!  I may post a chapter of Anhanguera tomorrow … Maybe … lol_ …
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020 ——— surlesarcasm ——— Goldeninugoddess ——— Denyelle
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— minthegreen ——— Amanda+Gauger ——— Okmeamithinknow
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18 ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _We created our own fern flower …!_


	42. 41: Water Flowers

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_41_** ~~  
~ ** _Water Flowers_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Wrinkling her nose at the dusty and spicy smell of the small tent that had been setup near the gardens behind the Feodosiv cottegi, Saori sat on the small hassock at the squat, rough wood table across from the aged fortune teller, a human woman named Izolda.  She reached out with trembling fingers, palm up, as she smiled.  “Give me your hand, child,” she said, her voice as thin as paper.

She did as requested, letting the woman take her hand.  Leaning in close, she idly traced the lines of her palm before turning it over to inspect the back in much the same way.  Then she let go and leaned over, rummaging around beside her for a small wooden cup that rattled mysteriously as she set it on the table.  “Shake that, then dump them on the table,” she said.

Saori did that, too.  The five stones had no markings on them at all, and the old woman held up her hand, as though to stop Saori from touching them as she studied them slowly, a wizened smile spreading over her wrinkled features.  So wrinkly, she was, that her eyes seemed to be deeply recessed under folds of skin, lending her an owlish appearance that could have been a little daunting if the woman herself wasn’t so gentle.

She inspected the stones for a little while longer before sitting back, folding her hands on the table top.  “You . . . You come from great power.  Your people hold the reins of the world, don’t they?  Yet, you are not touched by this.  You do not live your life, looking for what the world will do for you.  Instead, you seek to find a place where you can flourish apart from them . . .” she said.  As she’d spoken, her voice had gained some strength, her gaze, a little fire, and her smile—that endearing, almost caved in smile—had widened, too.  “You are surrounded by love, child, and love is the emotion that drives you, and in the trials to come, hold to that love, and it will guide you.”

Saori frowned.  “Trials?”

The old woman nodded, her expression growing more somber.  “They come in the night, and they come from places that you would not seek to find them, and the greatest one of all . . . It will threaten that which you desire most.  Be vigilant.  Only you can flush the poison that has already been allowed to flourish.”

“But . . . What does that mean . . .?”

Izolda sighed, offered Saori a compassionate little smile.  “I can only tell you that which I’ve seen, child.  The poison has yet to touch you, so I cannot see it . . . but I can feel it in the air around you.  Someone you hold dear is tainted—will _be_ tainted.  ‘ _And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell_.’”

Why did the sound of those words send a distinct shiver right up her spine?  None of it made any sense to her, almost sounded more like nonsense than anything she really needed to concern herself with.  Even so, there was a certain level of warning, a heavy undertone of something almost frightening . . .

Saori shook her head, opened her mouth to question the woman further as the tent flap opened, as Yerik stuck his head inside.  “Saori, are you finished?”

The old woman chuckled, entirely dismissing Saori’s feelings of trepidation—if she sensed them, anyway.  “That’s all I can tell you, child.  Go with God.”

She wanted to say more, but Yerik took her hand, pulled her out of the tent and back into the bright light of day.  He seemed excited, and he didn’t seem to notice the frown on Saori’s face as he led her through the milling crowds and down toward the far side of the garden where the generous stream flowed near the _cottegi_.  “It’s almost time for the maidens to set their wreaths afloat.  Fai said that you’d probably want to do that, right?”

“Oh, uh . . . Yes, I . . . I guess . . .” she said, trying to brush off the things that the old fortune teller and said.  She’d think it over later, see if there was anything in it that she could make sense of . . .

Yerik followed the crowd as they made their ways along the paths that led to the water’s edge beyond.  Here, as in the rest of the immense gardens, were strings of lights, bright garlands of flowers.  The lights were dormant at the moment, given that it was still mid-day, and along the way, they stopped at a collection of long tables that were strewn with various herbs, flowers, vines, small candles, ribbons of raffia in bright and brilliant colors that were offered for the fashioning of the wreaths that the girls would release on the water.

She took her time as she twisted together a handful of stiff vines, took her time in selecting the right greens, the perfect flowers, even as she skipped the candles.  Yerik chuckled, helping her to manage the wreath while she wrapped bright yellow raffia ribbon around it, tying the ends together to hold it in place.

“. . . _The poison has yet to touch you, so I cannot see it . . . but I can feel it in the air around you.  Someone you hold dear is tainted—will_ be _tainted_ . . .”

‘ _But . . . What does that mean . . .?_ ’

Her youkai-voice didn’t answer.  She didn’t know what to make of that.  Yerik was talking on about something, but Saori wasn’t listening.  He didn’t seem to notice her preoccupation, though, and she supposed that was for the best.  Holding up the wreath, she gave it a half-hearted once-over, but the excitement she’d felt before her visit with the fortune teller was conspicuously missing, and she sighed.

“You’re thinking about something,” Yerik said, drawing her out of her reverie.  “Something the fortune teller said?”

Sparing him an almost nervous kind of glance, Saori tried to shrug off her concerns.  “Kind of,” she admitted, slowly shaking her head.  “I think most of it was good . . . but she did mention some trials or something?  I’m just not sure . . .”

He considered that for a minute.  Then he shrugged.  “It’s just an old fortune teller, Saori.  They can’t just say everything’s great or why would you bother going to see one again?”

He had a valid point.  “So . . . So, what she said . . . It might not mean anything at all,” she said, almost more to herself than to Yerik.

“What did she say?”

Saori fiddled with the wreath in her hands, hesitating as she tried to decide if she wanted to say it out loud.  Even though Yerik seemed to think that there was no real truth to the woman’s words, she couldn’t help but feel like saying it out loud would somehow give the whole thing just a little more power . . . “You’re right,” she said, forcing a smile, brushing the words away.  “I’m just overanalyzing.  Besides, the rest of it was really nice.  She said . . . She said that I’m driven by love . . .” That thought made her giggle.  “I like that.”

Yerik stared at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes as he slowly nodded.  “Love, huh?  Yeah, I can see that . . .”

She felt her cheeks heat under his scrutiny, but he chuckled, taking her hand to drag her down to the water.

 

* * *

 

 

“I guess congratulations are in order.”

Evgeni blinked, arching an eyebrow as he peered over the rim of his tea cup at Fai, who was staring out of the bank of windows in the solar.  “Congratulations?  What for?”

Fai shrugged, lifting a hand, gesturing outside at the overflowing crowds, all of whom seemed to be have a very good time.  “This,” he replied, reaching for his tea cup.  “You’ve outdone yourself.”

Evgeni grunted.  “You mean, Arrida has,” he said.  “It seems like every year, she wants it to be bigger, more fun, more everything . . . which, to me, means more noise, more interference, more strangers, traipsing into and out of my home . . .”

“But you allow her to do it,” Fai pointed out.

“It pleases her,” he replied.  “If it pleases her, then she pleases me.”

Fai rolled his eyes, breaking into the smallest of smiles.  “It would be something like that.”

Evgeni chuckled.  “It could be worse, Fai.  Find yourself a beautiful mate, do what it takes to ensure her happiness.”

“You make it sound simple,” he said.

“It is,” he stated.  “So, tell me . . . your assistant . . . Did I . . . see the two of you, walk out of the forest together last night?”

“When have you known me to go hunting for nonexistent flowers?” Fai countered.  He still wasn’t sure why he was so reluctant to talk about Saori to anyone, even Evgeni . . . Maybe it was just the newness of it.  After all, he was still trying to get used to the idea for himself . . .

Evgeni nodded slowly, setting his cup aside in favor of turning his full attention on Fai.  “I assume you thoroughly checked into her background before you hired her.  Where is she from?”

“I know everything I need to know, yes,” Fai replied evenly.  “Besides, she used to work for the orphanage, so she already had all the clearance she required.”

“That would be a good reason to hire her to help with that . . . issue . . .” Evgeni allowed.  “I only hope that your subjects don’t see the farming out of the Russian orphans as some sort of indication that you cannot take care of your obligations . . . Strictly saying, you know better than anyone that we prefer to solve our own problems.”

“And I say that their best interests are far more important than our misplaced sense of pride,” he shot back evenly.  “Those who would not be bothered to open their homes to these children before have no right to criticize me for doing what it best for them.  Here, there . . . Russia, North America . . .What does it matter where these children go, as long as they belong to a family—a real family?  Because it doesn’t matter to me.”

Evgeni stared at him for a long moment, a strange sort of expression on his face.  He looked like he might well be near smiling, a sense of warmth in his gaze that Fai hadn’t really seen before.  “Well said, Your Grace,” he said.  “You . . . You’re more like Alexei than I ever thought you be . . .”

“Thank you,” Fai replied, hauling himself out of the chair.  “It looks like the girls are ready to set their wreaths afloat . . .”

“Oh, that,” Evgeni grumbled, all traces of the near amusement vanishing in an instant as he curled his lip and shook his head.  “I’m going to my office before that she-devil of a mate of mine decides I need to participate in that, too.”

“You love that she-devil,” Fai reminded him.

Evgeni grunted.  “I do, but I hate her penchant for guilting me into doing things that no man ought to ever have to do.  If you see her, tell her I don’t want to be disturbed—that I’m working on something—for you.”

“Are you?”

“As far as she’s concerned?  Yes.”

Fai chuckled as the older man strode out of the solar, his footfalls retreating rapidly as Fai turned to head for the doors.  Yerik had mentioned, taking Saori to see the fortune tellers and to make a wreath, and, even though he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to draw attention to her—to _them_ —by trying to fish out her wreath, watching her childlike delight would be well worth the effort.

 

* * *

 

 

The wind blew Yerik’s dark blonde hair, lifting it gently up and away from his youthful face.  Not for the first time did Saori notice just how good-looking he really was.  True, he still retained so much of his boyish charm, hadn’t quite grown into the angles and planes that lingered beneath the rounded contours.  He still possessed the almost emaciated body of a callow youth, as well.  Saori knew well enough, though.  In a few years, maybe ten?  He was going to look so much different, and she had very little doubt that he would end up, breaking a few hearts before it was all said and done.

It didn’t surprise her at all, either, when she looked around.  Quite a number of young ladies were staring at Yerik: some of them very obviously while others were a little more circumspect about it.  “I think there are a few girls who are hoping that you’ll intercept their wreaths,” she pointed out, leaning toward him as she lowered her voice.

Yerik glanced around and sighed.  “I’m too young to tie myself down, don’t you think?” he quipped.

She laughed.  “I suppose you’re right . . .”

He shrugged.  “It’d be poor form to do that, anyway, considering I just broke off an engagement.”

“Oh, I suppose . . .” she relented.  Then she sighed.  “Where’s Fai-sama?”

Yerik shrugged, leading the way as they continued on the path to the water.  “Last I saw him, he was having coffee with Evgeni.”

“I see . . .”

“I’m sure he’ll be along.  I think he wanted to try to intercept your wreath.  You know, just . . . just what I think, anyway,” he teased.

She smiled, ducking her chin a little bashfully.  “That wasn’t what I . . . I mean, he’s busy, so . . .”

Yerik chuckled.  “Well, it’s not like you have to float yours right away.  Besides, I’m not very good at interpreting things about the way it is on the water . . .”

“Do you suppose there’s any truth in it?”

“Do I think that there’s any truth to the idea that how your wreath floats down the river—whether it stays afloat or sinks has any bearing at all on your future relationship with some random man?”  Shifting his eyes upward from side to side for an exaggerated moment, Yerik finally leveled a grin at her.  “No, I can’t say I do.”

“That was the most pragmatic and unromantic thing I’ve ever heard,” she chided.  Sighing as she let her gaze drop back to the flower wreath in her hands, she slowly shook her head.

“Uh, um . . . S-S-Saori . . .?”

Blinking as she looked up into the friendly but anxious face of a fair-haired, blue-eyed young man that she didn’t know, she met his gaze as his cheeks reddened.  Beside her, she could feel Yerik take a step closer to her, but she didn’t stop to think about that.  “Yes?”

The young man grimaced.  “Oh, oh . . . I’m, uh . . . I’m Gustav Totstoyev . . .”

Eyes flaring wide, Saori’s mouth rounded in an, ‘oh’.  “Totstoyova-san’s son?  The . . . The . . .” Snapping her fingers as she tried to remember Ekaterina’s enthusiastic decryption of her son over tea in the solar with Arrida, she winced inwardly.  “You’re the doctor?  The eye doctor?”

Visibly relieved that she did, in fact, know something about him, Gustav smiled despite the slightly wary glance he shot Yerik, who sidled up another step, casually standing in such a way that his shoulder was very obviously situated between the two.  “Yes, that’s me . . . Mother said that you work for His Grace.”

“Y-Yes, I do,” she blurted.

He nodded, trying his best to ignore Yerik as he leaned slightly to the side to look past him.  “I was wondering, um . . . That is, if you don’t have an escort for the ball tonight?  I thought maybe—”

“She has one.”

Saori smothered a gasp as Fai’s strong and measured voice sounded behind her.  Glancing over her shoulder, only to do a double take, she blinked, stared.  His expression was blank, sure, but his normally warm hazel eyes were glowing in an entirely menacing kind of way.  He didn’t stop until he’d stepped past her, insinuating himself beside Yerik and effectively blocking her from view.

“Your Grace,” the young man sputtered.  “Forgive me, I—”

“She is here with my brother at the moment.  It should have been obvious that he was with her on my behalf.”

“Fai-sama . . .”

“Not now, Saori,” he growled.

“But—”

He waved a hand behind his back to hush her, and she narrowed her eyes and snorted.  Shaking her head since she was being ignored, anyway, she turned on her heel and stomped away.   She didn’t know what had gotten into Fai.  He was acting completely irrational—entirely unnatural, really . . .

Peering over her shoulder—they were stills standing there, grilling poor Gustav, she rolled her eyes once more, letting out a deep breath as she knelt down next to the water, carefully laid her wreath in the water and gave it a gentle push.

It’d serve him right if someone else grabbed her wreath, not that she really figured that would happen.  Resting on the balls of her feet, wrapping her arms over her knees, her hands curled in and resting atop.  Letting her chin drop onto her hands, she sighed.  Men, those strange creatures . . . She’d never figure them out, and most especially Fai, no matter how long she lived . . .

‘ _You know, I think he was jealous . . ._ ’

‘ _Fai-sama?  But that’s—_ ’

‘ _What?  Silly?  Stupid?  And just how would you describe his current behavior if not jealous?_ ’

‘ _I . . . I don’t know, but . . . I mean, it’s insulting, don’t you think?  Like, he thought I’d accept Totstoyev-san’s invitation?_ ’

‘ _I’m not so sure that he thought that, no . . ._ ’

She rolled her eyes, ducked her chin a little more.  ‘ _And why are you taking_ his _side, anyway?  You’re_ my _youkai-voice, remember?_ ’

‘ _I am.  But he’s your mate.  You’re angry because he dismissed you like that, but maybe, in his mind, he was defending you, so even if he was misguided, his heart was in the right place . . . And, at least, now you know now that a jealous-Fai-sama?  Not a good thing._ ’

She heaved a sigh, mostly because she wasn’t entirely sure that she believed that he was even jealous.  Why would he be?  She hadn’t done anything to make him jealous . . .

“So, I . . . I found this . . .”

Blinking as she turned her head, stared up at Fai, who looked just a little disgruntled as he sat down beside her, setting her wreath on the sparse grass in front of him.  Hooking his arms around his bent knees, he stared out over the water without a change in expression.

She might have ignored him, but she noticed the dampened legs of his slacks, and she frowned.  He’d waded out to get the wreath?

And just why did that dissolve the irritation that she’d been nursing?

“You found it?” she echoed, staring pointedly at his dampened legs.

He shrugged.  “Yes.  I found it in the water.”

She almost smiled— _almost_.  Then she winced and sighed.  “I wasn’t going to say yes to him or anything,” she murmured, turning her face back toward the water—watching as a couple of very pretty wreaths floated by on the soft current.

“I know,” he replied with a heavy sigh.  “I just . . . You’re here with me, aren’t you?  It should have been obvious that you were attending the ball with me.”

She sighed.  “I tried to tell Totstoyova-san that I wasn’t really looking for anyone yesterday over tea, but she kept talking, and she talks so fast . . . I couldn’t really get much of a word in, edgewise.”

“Ekaterina?”  He snorted.  “Yeah, she’s kind of a talker, and that son of hers?  Biggest mama’s boy on the planet.  She probably still presses his underpants for him, too.”

She gasped, shaking her head at him. “That was really not nice,” she chided.

He looked entirely belligerent.  “The truth usually isn’t,” he retorted.

She shook her head.  “I was introduced to everyone as your employee,” she reminded him.  “What was he supposed to think?”

Fai didn’t look entirely pleased with that.  “What was I supposed to tell them?  I don’t even know—” Biting off his words, he clenched his jaw tight and turned his attention back out over the water once more.

But he’d said enough.  Saori didn’t know how to process it, even as the rest of his words were hanging in the air: the ones he hadn’t said.  Abruptly, she stood up. She thought she might have said something about needing to start getting ready, but she honestly didn’t know.  All she knew was that she desperately needed to get away—needed to be somewhere quiet, somewhere where she could be alone . . .

“ _I don’t even know . . . what we are_ . . .”

That’s what he was going to say.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Biblical quote_** _: Matthew 5:30, King James Version_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020 ——— MiReinaPura
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— Amanda Gauger ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— Goodykags
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _What did he mean_ …?


	43. 42: Magic

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_42_** ~~  
~ ** _Magic_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

The great hall of the cottegi was entirely unrecognizable.  Between the time that she’d gone upstairs to get ready for the ball and now, it had been completely transformed.  Walls had been retracted, opening the hall to the living room that had been cleared of furnishings.  All the doors to the solar had been pulled open, too, where small tables had been set up: all of them draped with silk tablecloths in varying shades of white, with candles and flowers.  Garlands of flowers in every conceivable color adorned the pillars, strung with fairy lights, bouquets of every size everywhere—so many that the smell of those flowers filled every inch of the space.

People were talking quietly, some were dancing, and everyone looked so beautiful, so regal, that Saori found herself, self-consciously straightening her skirt, hands sweating in the long gloves she’d bought on a whim when she’d purchased the dress.  The sales woman had insisted that they would be perfect for such an occasion . . .

The festivities of the last couple days had led up to this, and, despite her lingering upset over Fai’s near-statement, she had to admit, she would have hated to miss this.  Not everyone was invited, though.  She’d overheard others talking about it.  Apparently, there were only five hundred invitations to the ball, and most of the villagers had gone home hours ago.

She had no idea where Fai was.

He’d knocked on her door, tried to get her to let him in, but at the time, she was in the middle of having her hair done by Arrida’s stylist and was sitting around in a towel since she hadn’t started to dress yet.  One of the maids had sent him away—something that she figured she’d hear about later . . . maybe . . .

“Wow.”

Saori blinked and turned around, only to come, face to face with Yerik, who looked entirely respectable in his black tuxedo.  He held out a hand as he bowed slightly.  “Would you dance with me?”

She stared at him for a moment, but relented, slipping her hand into his.  He chuckled as he led her toward the dance floor. “Don’t think that I’ve forgiven you for your part in that whole debacle,” she told him with a shake of her head.

Yerik grinned unrepentantly at her as he pulled her into the dance.  “That guy didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you,” he scoffed.  “Besides, did you _want_ him to escort you tonight, did you?”

“No, but I could have turned him down without anyone’s help,” she pointed out rather primly.

“That’s true, but you didn’t need to, so . . .”

She sighed, figuring that it would do her no good to try to argue with the stubborn Russian, and she shook her head, her gaze shifting over the other people, scanning the crowd for one particular person.

“He knows you’re unhappy with him,” Yerik said, noticing her preoccupation.  “He asked me to make sure that you have a good time.”

That got her attention quickly enough.  “He’s not coming down?”

Yerik shrugged.  “He didn’t want to ruin your evening.”

She narrowed her eyes.  “Is he up there, pouting?” she demanded.

Yerik’s smile turned a little ironic.  “Come now, Saori.  You know him better than that, don’t you?  If he says he is staying away so that you will enjoy yourself, then you can take that at face value.  My brother may not be perfect, but manipulation is not something he’s ever ascribed to.”

She grimaced.  She _did_ know that.  Fai was many things, could be many things, but no, the man she knew wouldn’t do any such thing.  He wasn’t trying to make her feel bad or guilty.  In his mind, he knew that she was upset and that it had to do with him, so the logical thing for him to do was to stay away . . .

Yet that bothered her, too . . .

Yerik sighed.  “You’re still angry at him over Gustav, right?”

She sighed, too.  “N-No . . .” she admitted.  “After that, he . . . Well, it’s what he started to say, I guess . . . He didn’t finish it, and . . . and I guess he was right, really, but . . .” She grimaced, her gaze falling as she ducked her head.  “It . . . It hurt . . .”

“What did he say?”

Shaking her head slowly, she winced.  He couldn’t see it since she’d lowered her head.  “It’s not what he said, it’s what he meant . . . I reminded him that he introduced me as his employee, and he . . . He wanted to know what he should have said when he didn’t even know . . .”

Yerik let out a deep breath, and she glanced up in time to see him grimace.  “Ouch . . .”

“I know he didn’t mean it the way it came out,” she went on quietly.  “At least, I don’t _think_ he did . . .”

“I can’t speak for him,” Yerik replied.  He looked thoughtful, like he was considering what he wanted to say, and he probably was . . . Even so, Saori . . . Well, she still couldn’t quite brush off the upset that still remained too raw, too fresh . . .

“You don’t have to explain for him,” she said.  “In fact, maybe you shouldn’t . . .”

Yerik shook his head.  “I know that.  It’s just . . . Saori, you need to know—I mean, really need to know . . . You’re good for him—maybe _too_ good for him—and that’s saying a lot.  I mean, for a very long time, Fai was . . . was everything to me.  He was my father, my mother, my . . . my best friend . . . As dumb as it sounds, Fai was my entire world for a long time.  No matter what I said or did, he was always there, and he never treated me like I was a burden or like he was annoyed by me, and you know he had to have been.  A twenty-something year old man, taking care of a toddler?  A hyper toddler, at that . . . but somewhere along the line, he forgot how to sit back, how to take a minute to breathe.”  Shaking his head, Yerik smiled a little sadly.  “Or maybe he never knew how to do those things.  I don’t know.  Since he’s met you, though?  He’s different—in a good way.  It’s just . . . He tends to take it all, you know?  Everything that happens—he assimilates it, like it’s his duty.  That’s why he’d rather stay up in his room than to come down here, to be the reason you don’t enjoy yourself tonight.”

“Saori!”

She blinked and turned, just in time to see Arrida Feodosova, gliding toward her in a whirl of pale yellow silk.  Yerik stopped, his hands falling away from Saori as their hostess approached.  “Good evening, my lord!  Impeccable, as always,” she greeted as Yerik leaned down to kiss her cheek.  “Saori!  You look absolutely gorgeous!  That color really brings out your eyes—I didn’t realize that they’re blue!”

“Oh, thanks,” she murmured.  “Thank you for sending Karinia to fix my hair.”

Arrida waved off her thanks with a flick of her delicate hand.  “That was nothing!  Consider it my apology for the misunderstanding with Gustav . . . I hear that His Grace wasn’t very pleased about it . . .”

Yerik cleared his throat—Saori had a sneaking suspicion that he was trying to cover his sorely misplaced amusement.  “I’m going to go grab a drink.  Would you ladies care for anything?” he asked.

“No, thank you!” Arrida chirped.

Saori shook her head.  “I’m fine.”

He nodded and slipped away into the crowd as Arrida took Saori’s arm and led her off the dance floor.  “I had no idea that His Grace and you . . . If I had, I certainly wouldn’t have encouraged Gustav . . .”

“It’s, uh . . .” she hedged, unsure just what she ought to say.

Arrida arched a golden eyebrow artfully and smirked in a conspiratorial kind of way.  “It’s complicated, right?”

Letting out a deep breath, Saori nodded.  “Yes.  Very.”

“Oh, my dear, it _always_ is!” Arrida started to laugh, but she stopped suddenly, rising up on tiptoe as she scanned the gathering.  “Where _is_ His Grace, by the by?”

Biting her lip, Saori shook her head.  “You know, I was just going to go see what’s keeping him.  If you’ll excuse me?”

Arrida’s smile returned.  “Absolutely!  And men say women take a long time, getting ready . . .”

Saori laughed softly as Arrida turned and swept away.  She sighed as she watched her go before slowly turning and heading for the grand staircase . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Striding out of the bathroom with a towel slung around his hips and another one draped over his head as he scrubbed at his sopping hair, he headed over to the door, but stopped short when the familiarity of the youki on the other side of it reached him.

He hesitated only for a moment before opening the door, but anything he’d thought of saying died on his tongue as his eyes flared wide, as he stumbled back a step—tripping over his own feet, as it were.  She stood there, wringing her hands, gnawing on her bottom lip in a decidedly nervous kind of way, and she had to clear her throat before she managed to speak.

“May I?” she asked, gesturing vaguely at the space inside his room.

He nodded.  To be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure he could speak; not yet . . .

She stepped inside rather timidly, and he closed the door, leaning back against the wall since he rather needed the support.

He’d taken her places before, and she’d dressed in appropriate outfits.  He’d never seen her looking quite like this, though . . .

Hair drawn up in gentle sweeps, curls, braids, with tiny flowers woven into the strands, all the starker against her dark hair, but the dress . . .

The bodice was nothing but a configuration of lacy flowers and rhinestones in a sweetheart design with more of the lace sprays of blooms that created the straps, connected to the plunged back.  It flowed into a flared tulle skirt layered over a satin underskirt in the same shade of eggshell blue as the rest of the dress that flared out around her hips and legs in flowing motion, accented with another spray of those lace flowers down the side, tapering to a riot of vines and ending with a sweep/brush train.  The embroidered lace was enough to cover everything, yet the sheer peeks of her body below was enough to send every last one of his senses into full-out overdrive.

There was something about the way she looked, something vulnerable and fragile and beautiful, like the first tender blossoms of springtime . . . It was something he’d seen in her so many times before, but somehow, in that moment, something about the way she was presented to him brought those things home in a landslide of comprehension.  The delicate slope of her shoulders, the regal arch of her neck . . . the shadows and stark rise of her collarbones above the blatant swell of her breasts in direct contrast to the absolute tininess of her waist—he was pretty sure that he could almost span her waist with his hands—into the cascade of her skirt, smooth and flowing, ruffling out just lightly at the floor where the front barely brushed the carpet, while the back tumbled out behind her, grounding her in a whisper of tulle and softness and lace . . .

It was all he could do to keep himself from reaching for her, from dragging her into his arms—and straight into his bed . . .

“You . . . You really weren’t coming down, were you?” she asked quietly, wringing her glove-encased hands in a decidedly nervous kind of way.

He sighed, forcing his gaze off of her, over toward the far wall—anywhere in an effort to kick his brain into working again.  Easier said than done . . . “Yerik . . . Yerik said he would escort you,” he said.  “I wanted you to enjoy the ball.”

His reply didn’t do a thing to quell her anxiety.  He could feel it in the way her youki surged and retreated in a wholly tentative way—as though she were afraid to let it touch him, and that . . . That made him grit his teeth—hard.  “I . . . I know what you said down by the water—what you started to say, and . . . and I . . . understand . . .” she began, her voice so soft, so quiet, so unsure . . . “I just . . . I . . . Fai-sama?”

“Yes?” he asked when she trailed off though he still had yet to look at her again.

“What . . .? What . . . are . . . we . . .?”

Something about the quiet sense of absolute vulnerability in her voice, as though she’d asked the one question that she desperately needed to have answered, even if it was the last one she’d ever wanted to ask . . . His eyes slipped back to her, even though he didn’t turn his head, and the way she was staring at her hands, fingers that were knitted together so tightly that her fingertips had to be white under the casing of those gloves . . . and the rawness in her youki . . .

It took two strides to reach her, to drag her against his body as a soft gasp escaped her.  He held her, hugged her, above her head, he grimaced.  For some reason, he had a feeling that everything rested upon what he said to her now—or what he didn’t say . . . Closing his eyes, feeling the wild and frenetic beat of her heart against him, he sighed. “I . . . I can’t breathe without you, Saori,” he murmured, hating the defenselessness that she had found in him: hating it, but loving it, too . . .

And just like that, the tension, the fear in her subsided.  The flare of her youki was like the sudden rush of the warm spring breeze, blowing up around him, taking his breath away, and just as suddenly, she giggled.  It was rough, and it was stunted, maybe a little shaky as she slipped her arms up under his arms, over his shoulders.  “I . . . I can’t breathe without you, either, Fai-sama,” she replied.

He sighed, shaking his head as he held onto her for a few moments before letting go and stepping back, draping his hands on his towel-clad hips as he leveled a no-nonsense look at her.  “Okay, I need you to hear me, Saori,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument.  She blinked, looking just a little confused at the brusqueness in his voice.  “You need to stop with the ‘-sama’ thing.  I’m not superior to you.  I’m not your better; you’re my equal.  I’m just me, and you’re just you, and I don’t need it—or _want_ it—not from you.”

She opened her mouth, then snapped it closed, a very becoming and sweet flush blossoming in her cheeks.  He almost laughed at the sheer consternation in her expression—that proper part of her versus his insistence that her formality was not a good thing . . . She sighed.  “I’ll . . . try,” she finally said in an entirely pouting sort of tone.  “You want me to ignore a lifetime of manners.  That’s not easy, you know . . . Fai.”

He rolled his eyes at the added emphasis she’d put upon his name.  Then he smiled, chuckled softly.  “You’ll get used to it,” he assured her.

She uttered a very quiet little, ‘hrumph’.

“Why don’t you go down and find Yerik?  Make him dance with you or help him dodge his fiancées . . .”

She blinked and stared at him for a moment before her rather blank expression shifted into one full of chagrin.  “But—”

He held up a hand as he stepped over to his closet.  “Would you rather watch me dress?  I assure you, I’m very, very naked under the towel.  I don’t have a problem with it, but . . .”

She gasped, and it was almost comical, how quickly she lifted her skirts and hurried over to the door.  She didn’t even look back as she hastened out of his room, and he chuckled again, only a little disappointed that she didn’t choose to remain.

 

* * *

 

 

Saori laughed as Fai turned her in a proper waltz.  She was bright, sparkling, glittering like a diamond in the sunshine.  Men stopped, gave her a look, a smile, an approving stare, and none of those were lost on Fai.  He noticed every last one of them, and in response, he held her a little tighter, was just a little more aware of how he handled her, with the care and precision that a woman like her deserved . . .

She didn’t seem to notice the attention she drew, and he figured that was just as well.  Knowing her, it would only serve to make her self-conscious, and even then, did she really need more ammunition to potentially use against him?  He rather thought that she didn’t . . .

“You’re so quiet,” she said with a little shake of her head.  “Why is that, Fai-sa—Umm, Fai . . .”

He chuckled, satisfied that she was trying to remember.  The pretty blush on her cheeks at the slip lent an added sparkle to those captivating eyes of hers, and she laughed.  “Just . . . enjoying the festivities,” he told her.  “You?”

Her cheeks pinked just a little more.  “I’m having a very good time,” she replied almost primly.

Catching Yerik’s eye, he chuckled again since the young man was currently surrounded, quite literally, by a gaggle of females, all vying for his attention.  He shot Fai an imploring look, but Fai could only shrug in a, ‘What-Can-You-Do?’ kind of way, and Yerik narrowed his eyes on him.

“Hmm . . . He doesn’t look like he’s having a good time,” Saori remarked, nodding in Yerik’s direction.

Fai quickly turned her in the guise of dancing and before she could get any ideas in her head about trying to rescue Yerik from his would-be suitors.  “He’ll be fine,” Fai assured her.  “Besides, it’s his own fault.  He’s a little too friendly sometimes.”

“Then I guess I should be glad that you’re a little more reserved,” she mused.  “I don’t know if I’d want to compete like that . . .”

“It’s hardly a competition,” he grumbled as the waltz ended.  Pausing long enough to clap politely, he offered Saori his elbow.  “I think I could use some air,” he suggested.  “Care to accompany me?”

She giggled at the perceived formality, but she slipped her hand under his elbow and let him lead her through the crowd.

The air outside was slightly balmy, carrying with it a subtle hint of a threat of rain.  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky as yet, though, and Saori laughed, tilting her head back as she took in the stars.  “Back home, you can’t see the stars as well,” she ventured as he led her off the patio, down the path the same way Yerik had led her a couple nights ago.  “So pretty . . .”

“I suppose they are,” he allowed.  Truthfully, he couldn’t say that he’d really taken the time to notice it before.

“You know, I was thinking . . . Granted, I wasn’t around when Gunnar-san  was younger, so I don’t know for sure, but I . . . I don’t think that he was ever trained the way you were.  He spent summers in training, both in Japan as well as in Maine with Zelig-sama, but they tell stories all the time about the things they did growing up . . . It seems kind of sad that you don’t have stories like that, too.”

“If Asia were a more peaceful, maybe,” he said.  “It wasn’t like I never had fun . . . It was simply more selective.  I always knew that people were watching me, judging me.  It’s not an easy thing.”

She considered that as she slowly nodded, as the fairy lights played so gently over her—the lights and the shadow and the soft, welcome glow . . . “Well, I guess it’s for the best,” she said, turning an impish little smile on him.  “If you were more outgoing, like your brother, then you’d have been surrounded by girls, too, and if that was the case, you never would have noticed me.”

“Is that what you think?” he asked, stopping abruptly, turning toward her, grasping her arm to bring her around.  “You think any of those women in there could compare to you at all?  They can’t, you know.  You’re . . . You’re . . .”

Heaving a frustrated sigh when he just couldn’t figure out how to say what was in his head, he let go of her and moved off along the path once more.  At times like this, it was hard to find just what it was he wanted to say, wanted to articulate.  He’d never been good at talking about his own feelings, and now was no different.

He supposed that it could well be because his esteemed father had been so adamant that a man should never show his feelings.  Over the years, Fai had gotten into the habit of locking those emotions away, in keeping them to himself so that they couldn’t be used as leverage against him.  The thing was, while that might work in normal things, in his everyday dealings with others, with Saori, that just didn’t work.  She . . . She _needed_ to see those things, didn’t she?

“I’m . . . I’m sorry . . .”

He drew up abruptly, letting out a deep breath at the meek, soft sound of her voice, of her words.  Grimacing inwardly, he tried to control his spiraling irritation—irritation at himself for messing things up yet again, for giving her the impression that she’d done something wrong when she hadn’t . . . “It’s . . . It’s not you, Saori,” he told her.  “I’m just . . .” He rubbed his forehead, wishing for the life of him that he was better at this sort of thing.  “I’m mad at myself,” he said.  “I’m not good at putting things—my feelings—into words.  I . . . I want to, but I . . .” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed.  “I’m trying, Saori.  I’m . . . I’m trying . . .”

The touch of her hand against his cheek drew him out of his self-recrimination, and he blinked as she gently turned his face, rubbing her thumb over the slight rise, the angled planes.  Eyes so clear, so steady, as a myriad of fairy lights from the nearby pond seemed to shimmer in the depths of them, she studied his face, blinking slowly, almost lazily.  “You don’t have to be anything you’re not, Fai,” she whispered in such a way that he had to wonder if she even realized that she’d spoken out loud.

He opened his mouth to speak, to try to tell her, just how much she meant to him, but the words wouldn’t come, and no matter how hard he tried, they jumbled around his brain until they were entirely meaningless.

And he did the only thing he could think to do, the only thing that maybe she’d understand.  Reaching out, pulling her close, marveling at the way the contact just felt right, felt complete, he lowered his head, eyes fluttering closed, breathing in the scent of her, everything about her.  He kissed her . . .

The sweetest touch of her lips under his was a balm, a salve, even as the rise in his senses spun out of his control.  She was closer than anyone had ever been, and it was all right—more than all right.  Savoring the taste of her—the lingering sweetness of wine on her lips—he sighed softly, leaning over her, sheltering her, protecting her through the haze of half-formed thoughts that slipped away from him like the gossamer strands of reason.  His entire life converged in her, and, through her, he could feel himself, coming alive . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Goldeninugoddess ——— AvinPhi ——— xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— AmandaGauger ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— Goodykags
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _I should have yanked his towel_ …


	44. 43: One Week

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_43_** ~~  
~ ** _One Week_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori clicked, ‘send’ on the last of the tai-youkai emails.  She’d spent the week since they’d gotten back from Evgeni’s estate, compiling and coordinating, calling the orphanage, asking for new pictures of each of the children, gaining a rough time frame as to when to arrange meetings and visitations between potential adopters and the children . . .

It was a flurry of phone calls, of emails.  So far, everything seemed to be coming together, including an impromptu meeting of the tai-youkai.  They usually met at least once a year to discuss global issues and stuff like that.  Since the tai-youkai were opting to accompany the adopters, it seemed like a good time to go ahead and arrange that, as well.  Fai was the one who had suggested it, even though he was more than a little dubious about it.  Russia had never hosted such a thing.  Usually, it fell upon the Japanese contingent—or the North American one.  Every now and then, they’d opt to go to Australia, and once shortly after Fai had taken over as Asian tai-youkai, they had held the meeting in South America.

She figured that maybe it was a sign that he was becoming a little more receptive to the idea that it might well benefit Asia on a whole to try to end the global isolation that the region was known for.  He might not be ready to open up completely, but it was a step in the right direction, in her opinion.

The only problem, as far as she could tell, was MacDonnough-sama.  Fai had called him, and, while he hadn’t told her exactly what was said, she got the impression that it wasn’t good, in any case.

‘ _That, and you heard him as he walked past you, mumbling something about rat-poison . . ._ ’

She made a face.  ‘ _That, too . . . You don’t think he was talking about killing a fellow tai-youkai, do you?_ ’

Her youkai voice sighed, then chuckled.  ‘ _Well, if it’s the MacDonnough, would he really be missed . . .?_ ’

‘ _That’s terrible!_ ’ she scolded.

‘ _The truth usually is._ ’

Saori shook her head. She and the rest of her family understood that there was nothing at all wrong with having a bit of human blood. Some of the strongest people in her family had human blood in them.  Even so, she understood—recognized—that there were still many, many youkai who continued to believe that hanyou were weak, tainted.  Most of the tai-youkai didn’t think that.  The MacDonnough, however, was one of the ones—maybe the _only_ one—who did . . .

Twisting her body, flopping down on the sofa with a long sigh, she pushed her arms up over her head, arching her back up, rolling slightly from side to side, as she stretched.

“Saori, I . . . Ah-h-h . . .”

Blinking quickly, she looked up at Fai and smiled.  He had a slight frown on his face, but he seemed more thoughtful than anything.  Crossing one arm over his stomach, resting his other elbow on his wrist, he tapped the end of a tapered claw against his lips as he watched her, rich hazel eyes sparkling with unvoiced amusement.

“Fai . . .”

“Sleeping on the job, are you?” he teased, arching an eyebrow at her.

She giggled.  “No.  I was just taking a short break.  Everything’s almost done.  They’ve all agreed that the best time would be the end of this month, so, that gives us a couple of weeks to get everything else arranged.”  She pressed her lips together as she considered what she wanted to say, and how she wanted to say it.  “I’ll get the exact dates for you so that you can call MacDonnough-sama again . . .”

He made a face, scooping up her legs and sitting down beside her, settling her legs on his lap.  “Oh, I’m sure that Ian will have something to say about it,” he predicted, his expression darkening.  “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and he won’t be able to make it.”  Intercepting the slightly disapproving shake of her head, he snorted.  “I can hope, can’t I?”

“You’re making me not want to meet him,” she pointed out.

Fai grunted.  “I already know him, and I don’t want to meet him, either.”

She let out a deep breath, conceding his point.  “He wasn’t very nice on the phone when I called to ask him about the orphans,” she ventured.

“He’s never very nice,” Fai responded.  “Back when I first took over, he actually said that I hadn’t earned the right; that Asia was too big for the likes of me to handle . . . Arrogant bastard . . .”

“But why is he so disagreeable?” she pressed, sitting up, drawing up her knees, wrapping her arms around them.  “After what he did to my cousin’s mate . . . I just don’t understand . . .”

“I’m pretty sure he was just born that way,” Fai grumbled, shaking his head.  “Damn him . . .”

He reached for the slim-file where she’d compiled all the information on potential adopters, the children, and all the times and dates.  As he scrolled through the tables and documents, he smiled just a little.  “You’re good at this kind of thing,” he murmured.  Then he made a face.  “Maybe I ought to let you look over the books—see if you can squeeze any more blood out of the orange, as it were . . .”

She frowned thoughtfully.  “Are you having trouble with that?  Well, _more_ trouble?”

He made a face, set the slim-file back on the coffee table.  “Always,” he confessed with a grimace, rubbing a tired hand over his face.  “Honestly, I don’t know how my father did it.  There aren’t any extra things that I’ve picked up, as far as that goes.  Every quarter, though, it feels like there just isn’t enough to stretch, and I . . .” He made a face.  Whether it was the perceived failure that he couldn’t take care of everything or not, she wasn’t sure, but she knew intuitively that it wasn’t something he normally discussed with anyone, not even Yerik.

Chin ducking, he gave an almost imperceptible shrug, his gaze trained down at the floor.  “He’s made offers to buy out part of my jurisdiction,” he went on quietly—angrily.  “I never wanted to consider it.  I don’t know if it’s just my pride—my own feeling that I should be able to handle it, just like my father and his father before him . . . but I . . .”

“Do you want me to look?  I don’t know if I could help, but . . .” Frowning as she concentrated on the things that Fai had said . . . It didn’t sound right, did it?  “You know, nii-chan is really good with stuff like this,” she ventured haltingly, hesitantly, unsure just what Fai might say about it.  “Nii-chan handles the finances and stuff for my parents’ company, and he keeps things balanced, down to the last bit . . . I mean, he’s trained to do this kind of thing . . .”

She could tell from the look on his face that Fai really, really hated the idea of asking for help, even from her—maybe especially from her.  She bit her lip and shrugged.  “Nii-chan wouldn’t tell anyone anything . . . If you wanted him to help, I’m sure he would . . . I’m not exactly the best when it comes to numbers—at least, not like he is.”

He was weighing his options.  She could tell from the thoughtful expression on his face.  She had little doubt in her mind that accepting her offer to ask Rinji was the very last thing he wanted, but when forced to compare his options: taking Ian MacDonnough up on his offer to effectively sell off a part of his rightful jurisdiction and not being able to provide the funding for the basest of necessities . . . He sighed.  “Why don’t you look them over?  If you find something wrong, then we’ll see . . .”

“I could do that,” she agreed, smiling at him, trying to encourage him.  In those moments, he seemed so much older than he was, and something about that broke her heart.  Worried about the weight of everything that comprised his office, she supposed, not that she could blame him.  She only wished that there was more she could do to help him—to reassure him, even if she couldn’t do anything to alleviate his worries, his stress.

He intercepted her look, managed a wan smile that didn’t reach his eyes.  “I’m sorry,” he said, starting to push himself to his feet.  “I shouldn’t have laid all of that on you.  Don’t—”

She caught his hand, tugged him back down again.  “You’re fine,” she assured him with a stubborn shake of her head.  “We’ll figure it out.  And don’t you dare consider selling off a part of your territory, especially not to someone like him.”

He let out a deep breath, staring at her for a long moment before reaching over, tugging her against his side as he slipped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.  “That’s the difference,” he murmured, his lips still buried in her hair.  “You tell me that we’ll figure it out.  Evgeni always tells me that I’m a fool for not taking MacDonnough up on his offer.”

“Why would he encourage you to do that?” she couldn’t help asking.  “He’s supposed to be your friend—your advisor, right? So . . .”

“He’s pragmatic,” Fai said.  “He knows the situation—well, parts of it.  He’s just trying to point out the options.”

“Maybe,” she said slowly, shaking her head as she pondered it all.  “I still don’t think that trying to talk you into selling off a portion of your jurisdiction is the right thing to do . . .”

He sighed again, pulling her into his lap, rubbing his cheek against hers.  The closeness to him was welcome, comforting, and she sighed softly, too.  “I’m not going to,” he told her.  “Not unless I have no other choice . . .”

 

* * *

 

 

Settling back in the heavy desk chair with the mountain of correspondence that he’d ignored during the last week since they’d been back from Evgeni’s home and the Ivan Kupala celebration, Fai rubbed his forehead as he let out a deep breath.

Most of the letters were the usual: more funding for this, requests for consideration for that . . . Those he’d deal with later, usually with a standard form letter, ‘ _I’m sorry, but due current budget restraints_. . .’

There were letters from a couple more of his regents requesting meetings to discuss affairs in their areas.  He was about to set those aside into a stack for when he had more time, but, given the situation with Maxim and Konstantin, he had to wonder if he weren’t summarily dismissing them out of turn.

Maybe . . .

He frowned.  Maybe his father was wrong.  All of the times when he’d told Fai that he could only rely upon himself, when he’d stressed the need to keep the power from being distributed . . . He might have had a point in theory, and maybe if Fai’s region weren’t so vast, but . . . But hanging onto that power, just for the sake of having it?  Was that really the best way?

‘ _You know, your father . . . He was a strong tai-youkai, but . . . But it was more of his own sense of needing to micromanaging everything that he’s tried to reinforce in you.  From the beginning, it was never meant to be that way, and even if you agree on some level, then think about it.  If Sesshoumaru had felt the compulsion to do it all himself, his way?  Then there would have been no need to appoint tai-youkai, in the first place._ ’

Frowning as he sat back, as he considered his youkai-voice’s words, he reached for the glass of vodka he’d poured on the way to the desk.  He hadn’t actually thought about it that way, and, of course, common logic told him that the world in general was far too vast of an area to govern alone.  Sesshoumaru had known this.  It was the entire reason why he’d opted to divide it all up into regions, in the first place, and, while Asia and its components were a far cry from the entire earth, the idea remained sound.  His father, somewhere along the way, had chosen to draw that power back in, but really, had he honestly done himself a disservice by doing so?

He had a few regencies without regents, thanks to challenges that had come in over the years.  The trouble there was that he had no one—literally no one—to ask to fill any of those.  Two of them were adjacent, so if he found someone to take the one, he could feasibly watch over the other for the time being.  It was a very big, ‘if’, though . . .

‘ _There’s Konstantin . . ._ ’

‘ _He’s his father’s heir . . ._ ’

‘ _Maybe.  But his father’s hale and hearty.  He’s not going anywhere, any time soon, so maybe he could just fill in till you find someone to take over permanently . . ._ ’

The curt knock on the office door drew his attention, and he flicked his gaze over just in time to see Vasili step inside.  “Your Grace, Konstantin Korinovich is here and would like to have an audience with you.”

Rising from his seat, Fai frowned.  “Send him in, Vasili,” he said.  “Speak of the devil . . .”

The mink-youkai gave one nod-bow and slipped out of the office once more.  A few minutes later, the door opened again, and the hulking bear-youkai lumbered in with a very large earthenware jug.

“Your Grace,” he greeted, striding over to grasp Fai’s hand.  “Forgive the intrusion.  I was nearby, and you said . . .”

Waving off the formality, Fai led the way over to the sofa.  “Have you found out anything?”

Konstantin grunted, the sofa groaning slightly when his bear sat down, setting the jug on the floor beside him, leaning forward slightly, hands steepled before him.  “It’s not so easy, chasing a rumor,” he muttered, looking entirely discomfited by his perceived failure so far.  “Most of those I spoke with said that they’d heard things from someone else, somewhere else . . . No one held any concrete memories of anyone who claimed to know anything, first-hand . . .” He grimaced, a determination settling over his features.  “I won’t give up!  I swear upon my grandfather’s grave that I—”

“The odds that you’re going to be able to come up with the people responsible for any of the rumors isn’t very good,” Fai interjected since it was pretty apparent that he was riling himself up.  “I did have a favor to ask of you.  I know you’re your father’s heir to the Siberian regency, but I have no one there at present.  I know it’s asking a lot of you, but if you would agree, I’d like for you to take Tyumen and Omsk, just until I find something to take over those regencies permanently.”

Konstantin blinked, shot Fai an almost incredulous look.  “You would ask this of me?  After I issued you challenge . . .?”

Fai shook his head.  “It’s not really as big of an honor as you seem to think.  There are a couple of warring factions there that will need policing from time to time, and—”

Konstantin slipped off of the sofa and onto his knees, kneeling forward as he grasped Fai’s hand in both of his and ducked his head.  “Your Grace is such a benevolent man!  One such as I certainly doesn’t deserve such an honor!”

“Stop that,” Fai grumbled, yanking his hand back.  “For God’s sake, get up!”

For a moment, he didn’t look like he was going to comply, Finally, however, he did stand up, much to Fai’s relief.  Maybe it was just because of his memories of school days when the other boys would openly mock him, making fun of his title, his proper address.  It didn’t really matter, though, and, considering he was asking Konstantin for a favor, of sorts, then it seemed a little silly.

“I will not let you down, Your Grace!  You have my word, I am wholeheartedly devoted to you!  It is my duty— _my honor_ —to serve you!” he went on, babbling more than Saori on a good day.

“I know,” Fai said in an effort to calm him.  “The regents’ cottegis are both staffed.  Choose whichever one you’d rather use, and I’ll close up the other for now.  I have it on good authority that both are very nice, so I’ll give you the keys to both . . .”

He started away, only to be stopped by the heavy thud behind him.  He turned, blinked, crossed his arms over his chest as Konstantin held out his hands in presentation of the earthenware jug that he’d planted on the coffee table.  Fai cocked an eyebrow.

“You are a great man—a fair and just tai-youkai—a benevolent ruler to our kind . . . but how mighty a Russian are you?”

“Are you challenging me?  Again?” Fai demanded.

Konstantin chuckled.  “Not your weak crybaby Demyanov brand,” he growled, uncorking the jug.  A moment later, the smell hit him.  Vodka, maybe, but highly, highly distilled—so much so that hit reeked of pure alcohol . . . “Family recipe— _real_ man’s vodka!” he gloated, gesturing at the jug once more.  “If you can out-drink me, then you’re truly the best of men!” For added emphasis, he balled up his fist, thumped it heavily against his chest.  Picking up the jug, tipping it to his lips, the bear slugged down a healthy swing, unleashing a loud growl as he thumped the jug back down again.

‘ _Oh, I can’t see how this is a good idea, Fai,_ ’ his youkai-voice warned when Fai stepped forward, grabbed the huge jug, steadied it with both hands.

‘ _Shut up.  He slighted the family brand,_ ’ Fai growled back, carefully tipping the ridiculously heavy jug to his mouth.  From the moment it touched his lips, it burned—burned so bad it nearly brought tears to Fai’s eyes.  Somehow, though, he managed to swallow it without a change in expression despite the fire that burned all the way to his stomach and then some.  It was quite possibly the worst tasting vodka he’d ever drank.  Hopefully, Konstantin wouldn’t notice the tears that had formed in his eyes . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Flopping back on the sofa as the room spun around him in a blur that threatened to knock him out of his seat.  Konstantin was still attempting to do the Kazatsky—actually, the prisyadka part of it—which was not a simple thing to do when one wasn’t drunk, but the added alcohol made it that much worse.  Tipping back, falling flat on his ass, the Siberian laughed—great, ringing gales of laughter.

They’d already fought it out, arm wrestling, which, of course, went in the bear’s favor since his arms were about three times the size of Fai’s, chess, which neither of them won since they couldn’t focus on the pieces to move them without knocking out most of their armies.  Fai was declared the winner, though, since more of his pieces were still standing upright.  So, they’d moved on to dominoes—also impossible to play when one couldn’t rightfully see how many pips were on each piece.  Fai won that by about the same logic that awarded him the win in chess.  Then, somehow, they had ended up, trying to dance.  After falling on his ass a handful of times, Fai had opted to allow the big man the victory.

The jug of vodka was still almost half-full, but if he tried to drink more, there was a good chance, he’d be puking the rest of the night.  As it was, the old butler had peeked in on them, only to slowly shake his head as he left them alone once more.

“No good, no good,” Konstantin said, waving his arm from his place on the floor.  “We’re tied . . . We can’t have a tie!”

Fai stifled a groan as Konstantin pushed himself up slowly—and a little unsteadily—only to latch onto the jug once more and down a healthy swallow.  Seeing no way around it, Fai took the jug and did the same.  The world was swimming, and he could feel himself swaying, and there wasn’t any help for it . . .

Taking the jug back, Konstantin slammed it down on the table once more.  “Sparring!” he suddenly blurted.

Fai blinked a few times, head rolling back as he frowned at the ceiling.  “Sparring?” he echoed dumbly.

Konstantin grabbed his hand, hauled him to his feet.  “Show me the power of the tai-youkai!” he thundered.  “Vasili!”

The door opened, and the butler stepped into the room.  “You . . . bellowed, sir?”

“His Grace needs his sword,” Konstantin said, waving Vasili away with a flourish.

Fai wouldn’t really remember later, just how the two of them managed to make it outside.  He also didn’t remember how he ended up with Kamennyy-Nozh in his hands . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Saori stepped off the bottom stair, rounding on the landing to head down the hall toward Fai’s office.  After spending a lot of time, finalizing plans for the impending visits, she figured she ought to run everything past Fai, but he wasn’t in his office.  When she turned away, she spotted Vasili, who seemed to be on his way toward the kitchen.  “Vasili!” she called, stopping the butler in his tracks.  “Have you seen Fai-sama?”

A strange sort of look passed over his features, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, entirely too quickly for Saori to read it.  “I believe His Grace is in the back garden with Master Konstantin.”

“Konstantin?” she echoed.  “He’s here?”

The butler nodded.  “He challenged His Grace to a—”

She gasped.  “He— _what?_ ”

She didn’t wait to hear more, turning on her heel and taking off as fast as she could go.  Why on earth would Konstantin challenge Fai?  She thought that they had come to an understanding already, so why?

Busting through the doors, she dashed outside, only to skid to a stop, her brain freezing in an instant as Yerik stood, sword held high over his head in a stance that seemed just a little too familiar to Saori.  A split second later, he slammed the sword down, a flash of yellow fire, exploding from the blade as it blasted forward, as the two men who were lumbering toward each other were blown back a good ten feet, landing in sprawled heaps on either side of the yard.

She ran forward past Yerik, darting over to Fai’s side.  The Asian tai-youkai was slow to lit up, and when he did, the fool laughed.

“What are you doing?” she screeched, throwing herself against Fai’s chest as late tears of anxious worry squeezed out of her.

He caught her, managed to keep from falling over as he clumsily rubbed her back.  “We’re battling to see who the manliest Russian is,” he told her, his words slurred and hard to make out.

“You’re . . . what . . .?”

Yerik snorted.

“It’s fine, Saori . . . He couldn’t have beaten me.”

“I could have!  As soon as you stopped moving,” Konstantin slurred back in retort.

“That’s the dumbest—You’re both drunk!” she hollered.

Fai grimaced.  “A little,” he conceded, smashing a hand against his ear close to her.  “Not nearly enough to be beaten by . . . by . . .”

“The great and magnificent Kostya!”

“Him,” Fai finished.

“What if he had hurt you?” she screamed.  “What if he—?” And suddenly, it was too much for her, and, to her horror, she choked out a loud sob, smashing her hands over her face.

“Uh—Hey!  You . . . Don’t cry, Saori!  I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!  I swear, I won’t do it again!  Just stop crying!” Fai blustered, drawing her against his chest, clumsily rubbing her back once more.  “We were just going to spar; that’s all . . .”

Yerik sighed.  “Great.  If you two are done acting the fools . . .”

“And you!” Saori growled, abruptly pushing away from Fai to glower at Yerik, who blinked and glanced around, as though he didn’t understand just why she’d be so angry.  “You could have killed him!  Killed them both!  You can’t ago around, tossing something like the kaze no kizu like that!”  Suddenly, she stopped, blinked, narrowed her eyes.  “How do you know that?”

“Keh!  Leave ‘im alone . . . It’s the first decent one he’s done,” a growling voice called down from the tree.

“Thought you said that she wasn’t supposed to know we’re here, oyaji,” another voice that she knew said.

“Keh . . . Said we’d keep an eye on her till we were sure she’s safe, didn’t we?”

“And you think she is?”

“Stands to reason.  Ain’t no way her mate’s gonna hurt her—himself, maybe.  Damned baka.”

Ryomaru laughed, dropping out of the trees, and held out his arms as Saori hopped up off the ground and dashed over to hug him tight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Kazatsky_** _: “Cossack Dance”, which is the traditional Ukrainian Hopak stage dance_.  
>  ** _Prisyadka_** _: the knee bend and kick part of the kazatsky dance that most westerners recognize_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Emy ——— xSerenityx020 ——— AvinPhi
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— Amanda Gauger ——— Goodykags
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** cutechick18 ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Ryomaru_** :  
>  _Mates, eh_ …?


	45. 44: Disorderly Conduct

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_44_** ~~  
~ ** _Disorderly Conduct_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Shuffling into the bedroom with a long, low groan, Fai rubbed the small of his back, furiously trying to rid himself of the overwhelming stiffness that had set in about an hour after the unexpected training session had begun.

Oh, he supposed that it had all started innocently enough.  Sitting around the table on the enclosed patio off of the dining room, enjoying a strong cup of coffee and trying not to let his head explode from the lingering hangover that he’d woken up to, he was minding his own business—happily so.  For once, he’d allowed Olga, the head of the kitchen, to make breakfast since he’d opted to spend a good hour, standing under the flowing shower tap, instead.

He was feeling a little better when he’d finally stepped out onto the patio.  Then he’d remembered a moment too late that he had guests he hadn’t counted on.  InuYasha and Ryomaru were seated at the table with Saori and Yerik.  Konstantin hadn’t stumbled in till a few minutes later, and it was something that Fai still couldn’t quite believe.  The bear-youkai looked absolutely fine.  He’d left shortly after breakfast, assuring Fai that he would assume his post immediately, but that he certainly wasn’t finished, trying to ferret out the rumors.  Then he’d promised that they would resume their ‘manly battles’ the next time he came to report in.

Fai wasn’t entirely sure that that was a good idea, but he’d nodded as he watched Konstantin go.

During breakfast, however, Saori had mentioned that her beloved great-uncle and uncle who was actually a cousin, but she called him, ‘uncle’ since he was so much older than her had been secretly training Yerik—which accounted for the heavy bruising that Fai had seen.  Somehow, the subject had come around to Fai and what he did or didn’t know, as far as his sword skills were concerned.

And then, it was decided that Fai would never be able to truly protect Saori unless he improved his skills—never mind that he’d already won so many challenges in his lifetime . . .

Which was why he was sore as hell and pretty unhappy about it.  Those two weren’t nearly as interested in training him as they were in simply batting him around, and if he’d thought that Tetsusaiga was fearsome, he’d quickly come to realize that Ryomaru’s sword— Ryoteishuseishu—was nothing to scoff at, either.  If he’d been smacked by the twin swords once, he’d been smacked at least twenty times, but it was the one shot he’d taken from InuYasha’s Tetsusaiga that had left him, seeing stars—and was the reason why he hurt like hell now . . .

Letting out a heavy sigh as he pushed into the bathroom, he blinked at the full tub, the steam rising and perfuming the air with the herbs and stuff that had been added to the water—perfect for a good soak.

He’d just settled into the bath with an involuntary hiss, ignoring the trace overflow that slipped over the rim, spilling out onto the floor where it funneled down the drain under the claw-footed tub when a soft knock sounded on the doorframe.  He knew who was there without opening his eyes, and he smiled a little wanly.  “Come in.”

“You’re supposed to dodge Tetsusaiga,” Saori remarked as she knelt next to the tub.

He snorted.  “You don’t say . . .”

She giggled, reaching over, tousling his hair.  The action unearthed a half-forgotten memory, and he frowned.

“ _You’re going to get all wrinkly if you stay in there much longer, my_ ruypka . . .”

 _Three-year-old Fai giggled, splashing water at his mother.  “Mama!  When I get big, I wanna be a fish!_ ”

 _She laughed and leaned in to kiss his cheek, ruffling his hair_ . . .

Her laughter lingered in the air long after the memory faded.

Catching Saori’s hand, he gave her a little tug.  She shrieked and giggled as she toppled over the edge of the tub, directly into Fai’s lap, sending another splash of water over the edge.  Clothing drenched, hair half-wet, half-dry, she giggled more as he wrapped his arms around her to keep her from hopping out of the tub once more.  “My mother used to sit in here with me while I bathed,” he told her.  “She used to call me her _ruypka_ . . .”

“Her little fish?” she asked, settling against him.  “That’s so sweet!  Your mother sounds really great,” she went on, her voice taking on a slightly sad kind of lilt.  “I wish I could have met her . . .”

“I wish you could have, too,” he said.  “She would have . . . have liked you a lot . . .”

She made a face then turned her head to hide against his chest.  “Then again . . . I don’t think she would have liked that I . . . appropriated her son . . .”

Fai sighed, carefully pulling her hair back out of the way.  “She probably would have thought it was amusing, actually,” he admitted.  “She always thought my father worked too much, too.”

Daring a peek up at him, Saori blinked, smiled a little timidly.  Eyelashes spiky from the wetness, cheeks flushed just the tiniest bit, she bit her bottom lip as her eyes reflected the afternoon sunshine, filtering through the western windows.

Shifting his arms so that he could lift his hand, stroke her cheek, he tried to smile at her, but for some reason, that smile wouldn’t come.  As though that kind of expression simply wasn’t right for the moment.  Staring into her eyes, he was struck by just how very precious she was to him—like the rain or the sun, the wind or the snow . . . And the humbling feeling that somehow, this woman . . . She belonged with him.  Opening his mouth, he meant to tell her, to let her know just what he was thinking, but he just couldn’t speak.  The words didn’t seem to want to come.  It frustrated him, and yet, even as he thought about it, she reached up, grasped his wrist, and he knew that what he felt . . . She felt it, too . . .

Leaning down, brushing his lips over hers, tasting the sweetness of her, feeling the tempering peace in her youki . . . She shivered slightly, but she wasn’t cold.  Content to relax in his arms, it seemed, nestled against his chest with her feet up over the side of the tub, completely ignoring the impromptu drenching . . .

She sighed against his lips, her hand, holding onto his wrist, caressing him with gentle fingertips. It was something beautiful and wanton and free—something so liberating, and he only found it in her.

She shifted, pulling her legs into the tub as she let her knees fall on either side of him, rising up slightly, her hands lifting to his cheeks, her fingers splayed over his skin as she took possession of the kiss.  Her scent was blunted by the water, but the passion that rose in her was not.  It spiraled in her youki, twisting around his, drawing his out—a perfect synchronicity, a perfect heartbeat as the warmth of her kiss shot through him.

Parting his lips, he allowed her whatever she wanted—anything she was willing to take from him.  The sweetest touch of her tongue against his both soothed him and shot through him by turns.  She sighed into his mouth, and he caught her breath, kept it, made it his own before giving it back to her again.

Pressing her body against his, she uttered the softest moan.  Sliding his hand up under her blouse, massaging her back as he held her close, he couldn’t help the small groan that escaped him: the brush of her flirty little skirt, her thighs against the part of him that ached the most, that yearned for her in ways that he could barely comprehend . . .

She shuddered, shivered, clung to him as though she were afraid to let him go.  Hands slipping up her back until he reached the intrusion of her bra strap, he reached higher, rubbing her shoulders, wrapping his hands up over them, holding her to him.  She arched against him, letting her head fall back, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, every last inch of her, trembling, quivering.  Letting his lips fall to her throat, he uttered a terse half-bark.  Her answer was a soft little whimper . . .

A loud throat-clearing from Fai’s room interrupted the moment, and Fai had to tamp down the irrational surge of utter rage that shot through him.  “Yes?” he called, unable to repress the terse quality in his voice.

“Pardon me, Your Grace.  Master Evgeni is here and bids an audience with you,” Vasili called.  From the sound of his voice, he was just inside the doorway.

Fai sighed as Saori snuggled against his chest.  He’d much rather stay here with her, but somehow, he didn’t think that he ought to ignore Evgeni . . .

“Tell him I’ll be down shortly,” he called back.

“Very good,” Vasili replied.

A moment later, he heard the click of his door, and he sighed again.  “Horrible timing,” he muttered, sparing a moment to kiss Saori’s forehead.

She giggled, but it sounded a little rough, a little husky.  “I should tell him thank you for inviting me to the Ivan Kupala celebration,” she remarked as she stood up and climbed out of the tub, making a face at her sodden clothing.  She handed him a towel before grabbing one for herself.

He stood up and stepped out of the tub, too, taking the towel she held out to him as he shook it out.

“I came up here to rub your back, but . . . Oh . . .”

He glanced at her when she trailed off, only to do a double take.  She was staring at him, wide-eyed, cheeks flushed prettily.  Glancing down at himself, he sucked in a sharp breath since he’d actually forgotten that he was entirely naked—and that his body had yet to get the message that things had to be put on the backburner, as it were . . .  “Uhh . . .” he blurted, quickly wrapping the towel around his hips.  “Sorry . . .”

She choked out a raspy sort of giggle that still managed to retain a level of shakiness, too.  “Well, I mean . . . You . . . You _were_ in the tub . . . I shouldn’t have . . . have been staring . . .”

Fai said nothing as he took her towel, as he slowly dabbed at her face, her neck, before draping the towel around her shoulders.  “The only thing that I regret is that you were dressed when I pulled you in,” he remarked in a quiet rasp as he drew her close once more.  “Feel free to let me know when you’re ready to take your bath . . .”

“Y-You’re kind of . . . bad . . .” she murmured, her gaze falling to his lips as her already pinkened cheeks darkened a few degrees more.

He chuckled, holding onto her for another few moments before finally letting his arms fall away.  “You could always wait in the tub for me while I get rid of Evgeni,” he suggested as he headed out of the room, half wishing that she would take him seriously.

‘ _Yeah, but you know, something as important as claiming your mate?  You might not want to do that in the tub . . ._ ’

Yanking open the close door, Fai let out a deep breath. There were worse places than a bathtub, too, he supposed . . .

‘ _True as that may be, you want it to be a memorable moment, don’t you? If not for you, then for her . . ._ ’

“For her, huh,” he murmured to himself, grabbing the first pair of slacks he laid hands on.  But what, exactly, would be memorable enough for Saori . . .?

 

* * *

 

 

Stepping into the office where Evgeni waited with a glass of vodka, Fai straightened his collar.  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, striding past Evgeni to slip behind the desk.

The griffon-vulture-youkai raised an eyebrow at Fai’s still-damp hair.  “A shower in the middle of the day, Fai?” he asked mildly, golden brown eyes shining as he slowly shook his head.

Fai shrugged.  “I was training,” he explained.

Evgeni’s frown darkened.  “I sensed a couple unknown youki when I arrived,” he ventured.  “Visitors?”

“You could say that,” Fai replied.  “You’re not here to discuss them, are you?”

The smile that quirked Evgeni’s lips was rather tight, a touch condescending . . . “A little bird tells me that you and your . . . assistant, is she?  Employee?  Secretary—?”

“Saori, you mean,” Fai interrupted.

The indulgent little smile widened slightly.  “Yes, her,” he went on.  “Awfully careless, isn’t it?  Kissing her where anyone can see?  Is she . . . special to you?”  Waving a hand in blatant dismissal, Evgeni uttered a rather incredulous laugh.  “Forgive me, Fai . . . You went to such lengths to tell me that she was . . . nothing at all to you.”

“Last time I checked, my personal life isn’t really anyone else’s business,” Fai remarked rather dryly.  “Unless she’s the reason you’re here?”

“No, actually.  I simply wonder, though, what you know about her—her people?  As much as you may not like it, your position is precarious, at best.  Is it really a good idea to bring someone else into it before you’ve gotten a better handle on it?”

Frowning at the things that Evgeni put forward, Fai slowly shook his head.  “Her people are fine,” he said mildly.  “As for my position?  I daresay a tai-youkai is never fully out of harm’s way, so if I live my life, worrying about what’s around any given corner, then what’s the point?  As someone who professes to be my _friend_ , I would think you’d be happy for me . . .”

Evgeni nodded, rubbing his forehead in a thoughtful kind of way.  “You’re right, of course.  I simply worry about your well-being; that’s all.”

Satisfied that he’d made his point, Fai relaxed slightly—and let the subject of his relationship with Saori drop, too.  “Okay, so, why did you make the trip down here?”

Evgeni drained the glass and stood up to fetch a refill.  Holding up the empty glass, he shot Fai a questioning look.  Fai waved a hand since he wasn’t entirely sure that more liquor was really something he wanted to indulge in today.  “It’s nothing very important.  Ian MacDonnough contacted me, though.  Asked if I’d had a chance to talk to you about the sale of the European states to him?”

“I already told you, I’m not interested in selling any part of my jurisdiction to him or to anyone else . . .” Fai reminded him.

Evgeni shrugged, returning to his seat with the refilled glass once more.  “That’s what I told him, but I thought I’d ask one last time if you’re sure . . . It would help out immensely, wouldn’t it?”

“Everything is under control,” Fai said.  “Even so, if he’s that interested, then he should feel free to contact me; not you.”

“Well, I think that he believes that you’ll turn him down, flat.”

“Because I would,” Fai allowed.

“But if you only stopped, thought about his offer . . . The people are talking, Fai.  They know something isn’t right, and you’re not exactly forthcoming with them regarding the state of affairs . . .”

Fai nodded slowly.  “That reminds me.  I do have something I wondered if you could look into for me.”

“Oh?”

“Seems that there have been a lot of rumors of late—rumors that might have a small measure of truth to them, even if the whole thing is completely taken out of context.  I need you to check into it for me.  I want to know where these rumors are coming from—and I want it stopped.  It’s making the regents even more uneasy . . . Rumors that I’m going to remove them—dismiss them.  I want to know where they’re coming from.”

Evgeni looked surprised for a few moments.  Then he frowned.  “You want me to go chasing down rumors and ghosts?”

Fai shrugged.  “You have good connections, don’t you?  You said before that you’d do whatever I asked of you.”

Evgeni nodded, though he still didn’t look particularly pleased.  “As you wish, of course,” he replied.

Fai sat back, pretending to listen as the vulture-youkai veered off onto another topic entirely.  Something about Evgeni’s agitation when it came to the subject of Saori bothered him, as though he didn’t trust Fai’s own judgement on the matter—like he didn’t trust . . . her . . .? That was ridiculous, though, wasn’t it?  Evgeni had no reason to distrust her.  He’d only met her a couple of times and hadn’t spent much time talking to her, anyway.  Either Fai was reading way too much into it, or something just didn’t feel right . . . Fai just wasn’t sure, why . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Stepping off the bottom stair as she flipped her long hair over her shoulder, Saori couldn’t help the secretive little smile that quirked her lips as she considered those stolen moments with Fai in the bathroom.  It was enough to bring a hint of color to her cheeks as she bit her lip and smoothed the skirt she’d changed into.

The click of heavy footfalls down the corridor that led to Fai’s office drew her attention, and she glanced up in time to see Evgeni.  He seemed to be heading toward the door, and Saori stopped, called out to him as he started to walk past her.  “Evgeni-san,” she said, hurrying forward, offering him a polite little bow.  “I wanted to thank you for your hospitality . . . I had such a good time, and I enjoyed meeting your lovely wife.”

The vulture-youkai narrowed his eyes slowly, stared at her hard, as though he were trying to figure out something about her.  “Tell me, Saori.  What is it you’re after?  A stake in the Demyanov fortune—there isn’t one, by the way.  Or does the idea of being married to a man of power appeal to you?”

Shaking her head as she stepped back once in retreat from the malevolence in his youki that suddenly spiked, that came at her, as though to subdue her own.  “I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she blurted, unsure why she felt the need to defend herself, unable to stop herself from doing it.

“Oh, I think you do,” he went on, his voice dropping in timbre and pitch as he took one step toward her, his heel cracking like gunfire in the silence.  “Perhaps you’ve fooled Fai with your pretty face, your . . . _charms_ . . .”

She shook her head again, feeling pathetically bare in the man’s hateful gaze.  “I—”

“Run home, little puppy,” he growled, leaning in close, the hostility in his youki, stunning, hurtful.  “Do it now, while you can.”

She was shaking slightly by the time he turned and let himself out of the castle.  Reaching out, steadying herself against a nearby table, she shook her head, tried to make sense of Evgeni’s foul words.

He thought that she was using Fai?  To what end?

Taking a minute, drawing a few deep, steadying breaths, Saori stood there, staring at the front door, wondering just what she could have done to make the man hate her so very much . . .

The only answer was the steady and rhythmic tick of the old grandfather clock as it marked off the seconds, as those seconds stretched out into a minute, into two . . . No matter how she tried to reason it, there weren’t any real answers.  Evgeni’s rage, his wrath . . .

She didn’t know why.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Ruypka_** _: little fish.  Term of endearment for a small child_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Goldeninugoddess ——— AvinPhi ——— xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** cutechick18 ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _But_ …


	46. 45: Unrest

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_45_** ~~  
~ ** _Unrest_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Lifting his gaze to peer over the top of the report he was supposed to be reading, Fai frowned as he watched Saori, who was settled on the sofa with the pile of ledgers and receipts, bank statements and basically everything that had to do with the finances, dating back to when Fai first took over as tai-youkai.  Everything was, in fact, in the ledgers, but she’d wanted to double check everything: an insane undertaking, really, but she seemed to be making decent headway into the pile.  First thing, she said, was to just check over the general bookkeeping before she tried to delve into it, looking for discrepancies.

In all actuality, he didn’t honestly think that she’d find much in the way of errors.  That wasn’t the problem.  He could only hope that maybe she could figure out a way to save some money, maybe cut a few corners, that kind of thing.  He suspected that the real problem was just that he’d been looking at those books for so long that he couldn’t rightfully see them from a fresh perspective.

That wasn’t why he was looking at her now, though.  Now?  He sighed.  She’d been uncharacteristically quiet all day.  He just wasn’t sure why . . .

Oh, he’d asked her, of course.  She’d smiled a little tightly, shook her head, assured him that everything was fine.  He could see right through it, but just how was he supposed to get answers out of her if she didn’t want to give them?

‘ _Maybe it’s nothing.  Maybe you’re just reading too much into it._ ’

His frown deepened.  ‘ _No, that’s not it . . . She’s definitely acting like there’s something on her mind . . ._ ’

Unfortunately, he wasn’t entirely sure, how he could get her to talk about something that she very obviously wanted to keep to herself, at least, for now.  He’d tried to get her to open up about it last night when he’d come to bed, only to find her, rereading the same page of a book about five times—if she’d read it, at all.  When he’d asked her about it, she’d just forced a little smile, told him that everything was fine . . .

But he’d felt the upset in her youki, a sense of reluctance that wasn’t there before.  If she hadn’t snuggled against him so readily, he might well have thought that maybe it was something he’d done.  As it was, though, he had spent a long time, staring into the darkness, wondering just what it was that felt . . . off . . .

Maybe it was simply that he was entirely attuned to her—everything about her.  He wasn’t sure exactly when that had happened, but he couldn’t say that he was uncomfortable with it, either.  He guessed that if he had to describe it, he’d just chalk it up to the idea that they were mates.  It was the simple feeling that everything about her resonated with him, and that . . . It was a good thing—a wonderful thing.  A _perfect_ thing . . .

He sighed, leaning back in his chair as he dropped the pen he’d been holding onto the desktop with a clatter.  “Saori . . .”

She didn’t look up.  “Hmm?”

“You know,” he drawled as he considered how he wanted to phrase what was on his mind.  “I . . . I’m here if you want to talk to me . . . about . . . anything . . . anything at all that might be bothering you . . .”

That got her attention, and she peered at him over the top of the ledger.  “Nothing’s bothering me,” she assured him with a sweet smile.  “You know, I think I’m almost done, going through the general bookkeeping.”

He frowned as she turned her attention back to the books once more.  On the one hand, he was about ready to demand that she tell him what was on her mind.  On the other?  Well, he liked to think that she would tell him on her own.  Maybe he was reading more into it than what was really there.  Maybe his own hyper-awareness was coming back to bite him . . .

‘ _Except that you know how the old saying goes: if it looks like a duck, and it quacks like a duck . . ._ ’

‘ _And she tells me that it’s nothing.  Am I supposed to accuse her of lying?_ ’

‘ _Of course not!  Just give her some more time.  If it’s that important, she’ll tell you.  Maybe she is just having one of those moments that they say women have . . ._ ’

‘ _Yeah, and what would you know about that?  You know, I’m pretty sure that if I said that to her, she’d be mad at me for it . . ._ ’

‘ _Well, I didn’t tell you to say it to her, for God’s sake!  Women are touchy about stuff like that, aren’t they?_ ’

Fai heaved a sigh since that, in his estimation, really didn’t deserve an answer . . .

A loud rumble outside abruptly caught his attention.   It sounded like a sonic boom or maybe an earthquake, and he dropped the report on the desk as he stood up to look outside.  InuYasha was standing in the yard, yammering at Yerik as the latter slowly picked himself up off of the ground, and Fai shook his head.  “I think your uncles are trying to kill my brother,” he muttered, leaning against the window frame.

She glanced up, blinking, and set aside the ledger she was going over.  “They’re not trying to kill him,” she insisted as she hurried over to see what he was looking at.  “Hmm . . . You know, I think Yerik-kun is getting faster on his feet . . .”

Fai snorted.  “You think?”

She sighed as she watched the training going on.  “Back home, whenever we had a family gathering, it always ended up in the back yard, sparring,” she ventured, her voice soft, a little sad.

He stared at her for a long moment before turning his attention out the window again. “You miss your family,” he said.  “Your mother?  Father?”

She nodded slowly.  “Nii-chan, too . . . I mean, I know that I can call them any time, but it’s just not really the same . . .”

His frown turned a little more thoughtful.  Yes, he supposed, missing her family could easily be responsible for her slight despondency today, last evening . . . She had her uncles here, of course, but that wasn’t exactly the same, was it?  Watching the training going on outside, he snorted indelicately.  Considering her uncles were about as blood thirsty as they came?  It wasn’t exactly conducive to a sweet family visit, now was it . . .?

Beside him, she sighed.  Fai slipped an arm around her, drawing her gently against him.  The only family he had was Yerik—and, he supposed, Saori.  He was used to being alone for the most part, but it wasn’t something he’d chosen.  She . . . She was most certainly a product of the love and devotion of that family she missed.  Maybe . . . Maybe he could try to be a little more tolerant, and maybe . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Settling back in the high boughs of the old tree in the back garden of the impressive estate, InuYasha watched, arms folded, as Ryomaru put Fai through his paces.  True enough, he’d insisted that the Asian tai-youkai learn the basics of what they knew, all in the guise of deeming the young man worthy of taking care of his great-niece, Saori.  The truth of it was, however, that even InuYasha had to admit that he was solid enough of a swordsman and overall fighter to hold his own easily enough.

From what he’d said, he was trained by some wacky old Chinese guru—Master Ling, they’d called him.  InuYasha had never heard of him, but he’d been told that Ling was a master of both the Taijijian martial arts as well as the Taijijian sword.  Fai’s blade was a decent one though single bladed, which wasn’t strictly Taijijian style, but his was actually imbued with the ability to absorb earth style attacks—pretty damn useful, given that he could stop any manner of earth attack, even if said-attack was more of a reaction than an actual assault.  Yerik’s sword, however, was the traditional Taijijian design: twin-edged, slightly heavier than Fai’s Kamennyy-Nozh.  Right now, they’d decided that Yerik would benefit more from strength and agility training than anything else since that sword was heavy enough that it slowed him down a little.

None of that was really important.  He had to admit that the Russians were quite able to hold their own easily enough.  No, it was more of the idea that they just wanted to make sure that Saori herself had found the right fit.

She’d always been a little impulsive, a little more free-spirited than anyone else in the close-knit family.  InuYasha had always enjoyed, taking her out camping and hunting and teaching her things that she found fascinating, maybe more so than anyone else in the family.  The others learned survival skills, and yes, they’d be fine if they were ever in a situation that required it, but Saori had always thrived upon it.

It was that sense of independence that she’d discovered early on that led to her, venturing out on her own, seemingly without a second thought.  Even as a great-uncle, it was something that he could be proud of.  Saori didn’t question her choices when she followed her heart, so it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that she’d let it lead her here, either . . .

But it hadn’t take InuYasha long to realize that the little girl that he’d known for so long had finally grown up, and in the doing, she’d stumbled into her mate, too, even if she had gone about it in an entirely unorthodox way.  When he’d followed her as she’d chased after Fai on that challenge with that lumbering bear-youkai, he’d sat in the trees, far enough way to keep his presence hidden, but near enough to keep an eye open for any signs of ambush or deception, and he’d watched as they’d hugged, kissed there on the would-be battlefield.  In his estimation, those moments were enough to solidify in his mind that those two really did belong together . . .

He hadn’t bothered to follow them to the bear’s home, though.  After all, Demyanov had managed to keep his head on his shoulders this long.  He’d keep her safe then, too . . .

Narrowing his gaze as Ryomaru hopped out of the way to avoid the long blade of Yerik’s sword, he flicked his dog ears as he uttered a low snort.  Ryomaru was having a slightly more difficult time with Yerik today.  He wasn’t exactly using his entire arsenal, and he wasn’t really putting everything he had into the fight, but it was a close thing.  In the little longer than a month since they’d taken on Yerik as a student, he’d come a long way.

The buzz of his cell phone interrupted InuYasha’s musings, and he snorted indelicately as he tugged the device out of his pocket.  “Izayoi,” he said, foregoing any perceived pleasantries.

A soft chuckle greeted him on the other end of the line.  “Jiijii . . . How are you?”

Recognizing the voice of his great-nephew, InuYasha sat back again.  “Fine, fine,” he replied a little impatiently.  He never had been one to yak on the phone.  “Your aunts make it safely onto the plane?”

“That’s why I was calling.  They’ve hit a short delay—at least, they said it shouldn’t be longer than an hour—but, yes, they’re on the plane and waiting.  They should land sometime this afternoon—maybe closer to evening with the delay . . .”

“All right,” InuYasha grumbled.  “Thanks.”

Rinji sighed.  “How’s Saori?  I mean, she’s video chatted me; all of that.  What’s your take on it, though?”

“She ain’t a pup anymore, Rin,” he reminded the younger youkai.

“I know that,” Rinji replied.  “But you know better than anyone that she doesn’t always do things in the way she should, and sometimes it backfires on her.  So, I’m asking.”

InuYasha grunted.  “She’s fine.  It’s that mate of hers that could use some training.  Can’t even see the fissure between youki yet . . .”

“Her . . .?” Rinji grunted.  “Her _mate_ , you said?  Demyanov-sama . . .?”

“Keh.”

“Is . . .? Is that right . . .?”

“Anyway, we’ll get him trained up.  Can’t let him run around without knowing the fucking basics.”

“But . . . I mean, he’s been challenged quite a few times, hasn’t he?” Rinji argued.  “So, he has to know something about fighting . . .”

InuYasha snorted.  “Taijijian ain’t the same,” he scoffed.  “A bunch of forms that get in the way of having your sword where you need it to be when you need it to be there.”

Rinji grunted, mostly because he, too, had studied some various forms of martial arts, as well.  It just so happened that when it came to actual swordplay, he tended to blend the various disciplines he’d learned.  “Taijijian is about more than form,” he reminded InuYasha.  “It’s also about focus and balance . . .”

“Yeah, well, someone who has the grit to challenge him ain’t gonna necessarily fight fair, either, and if they don’t fight fair, then focus and balance don’t really mean shit.  As long as you’re stronger than your opponent, then the rest don’t matter.”

Rinji chuckled.  “You have a valid point, jiijii.  Anyway, I’ll let you go.  Take care of everything there.”

“Keh.”

The call ended, and InuYasha let out a deep breath.  He had a few hours, then, before he had to head to the airport to pick up the womenfolk: Kagome and Nezumi.  Nezumi had offered to take a look at the orphanage’s vehicles, see if she couldn’t get them up and running again before the trip down to meet the perspective adopters.  Kagome?  She just missed InuYasha, she’d said . . .

‘ _Keh!  You miss her, too, baka._ ’

Breaking into the smallest grin as he gazed out over the landscape, golden eyes, glowing softly.  ‘ _Yeah . . . Yeah, okay . . . I miss her, too . . ._ ’

 

* * *

 

 

Stepping off the bottom stair of the grand staircase, Saori frowned as the very loud bang that sounded suspiciously like a cooking pot being heaved across the kitchen resounded in the castle.  Casting Vasili a questioning glance, only for the butler to sigh and very slowly shake his head, she laid a hand upon his arm.  “What’s going on?” she murmured, as a second clatter—this one, accompanied by a very loud bellow—echoed through the hall.

Vasili shot her what could only be described as a very longsuffering shake of his head.  “I believe that His Grace and Master Ryomaru are both in the kitchen,” he said.

Eyes widening, mouth dropping open in a round, ‘o’, Saori blinked, started to move off in that direction, only to draw herself up short, as though she were afraid to find out, just what was going on in there.  “Oh . . . This isn’t going to be good,” she murmured, more to herself than to the aged butler.

Vasili cleared his throat delicately.  “I believe that His Grace was making borscht.”

“Oh, dear,” she said since she knew how particular he was about that.  It galvanized her into action as she hurried off to see if she needed to intervene . . .

Rounding the corner of the dining room, she spotted Olga, the housekeeper-cook standing just outside the swinging doors that led to the kitchen, her arms crossed over her chest, slowly shaking her head.  Grimacing as she steeled herself for what she was about to see, Saori slowly pushed the doors open and slipped into the kitchen just in time to spot Fai and Ryomaru, standing toe-to-toe in front of the huge stove.  Fai was waving a thick wooden spoon at Ryomaru, who was rolling his eyes and bearing his fangs in an entirely menacing display.

“You ruined my borscht!” Fai growled, jabbing the spoon within inches of Ryomaru’s nose.

Ryomaru snorted, knocking the spoon to the side, planting his hands on his hips.  “Are you kidding?  Everyone knows that the secret to excellent borscht is kelp!”

“No, they don’t because it isn’t!” Fai snarled, whipping the spoon to the side as he glowered into the kettle of soup on the stove.  “I’ve been making borscht all my life, and you . . . You’re Japanese!  You don’t know a damn thing about borscht!”

“The hell I don’t,” Ryomaru hollered, shoving Fai aside so that he could stir the soup.  “I’ve been _professionally_ trained, and in my _professional_ training, I learned that kelp is _key!_ ”

“Then your professional training was done by someone stupid because kelp does _not_ belong in borscht!  Now, get out of my kitchen!”

“You know, I—”

“Ryomaru, what are you doing?”

Covering her mouth as Nezumi stepped into the kitchen, striding straight toward her mate to grab him by the ear and tug—hard—the human woman shook her head, scowling up at her wincing mate.  “Ow!  Nez!” he complained as she dragged him toward the door.  “Wench!”

“Oh, no,” she grumbled, shoving the swinging doors open and yanking her mate through it.  “You’re a guest in his house, and you’re being rude, Ryo!”

“Rude, my ass!  _Ow_ , damn it!”

Fai grunted, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the retreating pair.  “Good.  Maybe she can keep him out of my kitchen,” he growled.

Wisely hiding her amusement as she ducked her chin, folding her arms over her chest as she shuffled forward, she uttered a sound that could easily be agreement—or simply humoring—as she reached into the flour container and dusted it on the counter.  “Ryomaru-oji-chan is very good at cooking,” she ventured in what she hoped was a neutral tone as she punched down the black bread dough and pulled it out of the bowl.

“Apparently, not when it comes to borscht.”

“Okay, maybe not borscht, but he _is_ a good cook—a certified chef, actually.”

“And just why would someone like him learn how to cook, in the first place?”

She shrugged.  “Well, as far as that goes, the story went that he had to learn how to cook before Nezumi-oba-chan would agree to have children since neither of them knew how, to start with.”

He grunted.  “So, he cooks, and she works on cars . . .?”

She nodded.  “He hunts, too, of course.”

Fai snorted by didn’t bother to comment further.  Saori bit her lip, since she could kind of imagine just what Fai was thinking about all of that . . . It rather amused her, too, come to think of it . . .

There was a certain kind of calm to be found in kneading bread dough, she thought, pushing against the dough with the heels of her hands.  Pulling it forward, folding it over, pushing it back, over and over, she let out a deep breath as she tried not to think about those awful things that Evgeni had said to her—those things she couldn’t quite shake off.

He was trying to frighten her, to cow her.  She knew that.  Ordinarily, she’d try to simply brush it off, but something about the seething hatred in the man’s youki . . . She’d never, ever met anyone who could hide that much vileness, but Fai . . .

She grimaced.  Fai had said that Evgeni was a lifetime friend of his father’s, wasn’t he?  A trusted confidant to the tai-youkai . . . Even so, why?  Certainly, she could understand the desire to protect Fai, but . . .

Gasping when Fai’s arms slipped around her, as his body pressed against her back, his hands closing over hers, helping her to knead the dough, he sighed.  She shivered slightly as his breath stirred the wispy ends of her hair, sending a tickle, straight down her spine.  “Your hands are too small to do this,” he told her, but he didn’t sound annoyed.  If anything, he seemed a little bemused . . .

“I was doing just fine,” she countered lightly, biting her lip, trying to focus on her self-appointed task when the draw of the man was entirely too close for comfort.  Everything about him was blatantly masculine—his hands that were easily twice the size of hers, the way his body seemed to fold in over her—around her . . . The beat of his heart, so strong, so even . . . the scent of him . . . _everything_ . . .

“You’re just not tall enough to get the leverage you need here,” he told her.  “Do you want me to go find you a footstool?”

She wrinkled her nose, turned her head far enough to lean toward him, to kiss his cheek, giggling softly as his skin pinked just a little, as he kept his gaze trained steadily upon the dough on the work bench.  “I think I’m doing just fine,” she countered.

He reached up, smearing flour on her nose despite her efforts to avoid his hand.  “You’re not,” he insisted as she broke into another round of giggles.  “Maybe you should just move and let me handle that.”

“You’d better check your borscht,” she chided, leaning to the side, wiping the flour off her nose with her sleeve.  “I think it’s burning.”

“Nope,” he told her.  “It can’t taste worse, anyway, even if it does burn.”

She rolled her eyes.  “It’s not that bad with kelp,” she told him.  “We ate it that way all the time at the orphanage.”

“I know,” he remarked dryly.  “You don’t have to remind me.  Kelp, indeed . . .”

She smiled at his entirely disgruntled tone.  “It could always be worse, Fai.”

He chuckled, paused for a moment to rub his cheek against hers.  “I like it when you say my name, Saori.”

She giggled, her own cheeks heating at the husky tone that had crept into his voice.  “Do you?”

“Mmm.”

“. . . Fai . . .?”

He grinned, hazel eyes brightening as he studiously avoided her gaze.  “Yes . . .?”

“I’m just . . . practicing,” she told him.

He grunted, but his smile widened, just the same.

“Saori-chan, I— _Oh!_ ”

Squeaking out a little gasp as her great-aunt Kagome breezed into the kitchen, only to stop short at the rather compromising position she found them in, Saori giggled and ducked under Fai’s arm to skitter over and hug her aunt.  “Oba-chan!”

Kagome laughed, grasping Saori by the shoulders, holding her at arm’s length to get a good look at her.  The miko of legend was ageless, still as youthful looking as the old pictures of her, back in the day when she was still just a schoolgirl who spent most of her time, chasing down shards of the Shikon no Tama with InuYasha . . . “You look well,” she told Saori, her gentle smile widening a little more.  “Russia is being good to you!”

“I missed you!” Saori blurted.  “Oba-chan, this is Demyanov Fai . . . Fai-sama, this is Izayoi Kagome.”

“The priestess of legend,” Fai intoned, glaring at his flour-covered hands for a moment.  “Very pleased to meet you.”

Kagome smiled, offering Fai a polite bow.  “I trust Saori’s been keeping out of trouble?”

She made a face while Fai chuckled.  “For now.”  Kagome laughed again.

InuYasha stomped into the kitchen, grunting in irritation as he was brought up short by the women, standing in the doorway.  “Wench!” he growled, stepping around his mate.  “C’mon, baka.  Time for your training.”

Fai slipped the loaves into pans and covered them with a clean cloth to rise again.  He didn’t look like he wanted to do any such thing, but he sighed, shook his head, as he quickly washed his hands.  “If I must,” he stated, making no bones about the idea that he really didn’t think it was entirely necessary.

The women watched as the men exited the kitchen, back toward the dining room since Fai needed to retrieve his sword.  Kagome raised an eyebrow at Saori.  “He’s very good-looking,” she commented.  “I think I can see why you . . . appropriated him.”

Snapping her mouth closed, she tried to keep the livid blush off her face.  It didn’t work, and Kagome laughed.  “Well, dear, you have immaculate taste in men; I’ll give you that.  Now, why don’t you show me around and tell me more about your Fai-sama . . .?”

Saori giggled and nodded before leading the way out of the kitchen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** AvinPhi ——— xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— Toyasgurl ——— Hellfyre21
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18 ——— Thanatos
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Kagome_** :  
>  _Niiiiiiice_ …


	47. 46: Brotherly Love

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_46_** ~~  
~ ** _Brotherly Love_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Leaning up on his elbow, Fai smiled vaguely as he watched Saori sleep.  The early morning sunlight, filtering through the windows seemed to catch in her hair, dance over her shoulder, her cheek, despite the dusty shadows that still covered her eyes, protecting her from the burgeoning light.  Sooty eyelashes, so thick and long, the kiss of pink that touched her sun-glowing skin . . . Deep rose lips, slightly parted as her slow, even breathing filled him with a sense of well-being that ran through him in such a way that it had become a part of him without even trying.

He frowned, but it was more of a thoughtful expression than anything as he gently ran the back of his knuckles against her cheek, reveling in the smoothness, the warmth of her, both body and spirit . . . He wasn’t sure how, but this family of hers . . . They’d raised her to be who she was, and that, to him, was astounding, almost humbling.  A gentle spirit, an underlying sweetness . . . Everything about her . . .

Every day, the memories of a lifetime without her seemed to fade, and every day, he had to wonder if she could feel it, too.  She’d never said; not really, but it stood to reason that if he knew that she was his mate, that she had to know it, too, right?  That was how it worked, or so his mother had told him.  In those days, he had scoffed, told Faina that he had plenty of time to worry about such things.  If he’d realized then that he’d lose her so soon, would he have sat down, listened to what she had to say . . .?

He grimaced.  He’d like to think that he would have.  He’d like to think that he wasn’t such a terrible son.  Even so, there were moments when all he could remember were those times that he blocked out her gentle thoughts, the way she’d try to encourage him not to be so hard, so unyielding, and all he’d wanted was to be just like his father . . .

And that was how he’d lived his life from the moment he’d become tai-youkai until the moment _she_ had walked into his life, and from the very start, she’d forced him to take a long, hard look at himself, even when he hadn’t wanted to do any such thing.  She hadn’t done it in such a way that he’d never even realized as it was happening.  Watching her, listening to her . . . That’s what had made him understand . . .

And now?

Leaning back, scratching his chin, he considered that simple question as the minutes ticked away on the clock.  His father . . . He was a fine man, an excellent tai-youkai, and yet . . . He wasn’t perfect, was he?  He was flawed, like everyone was, but some of the things his father believed . . . Fai wasn’t entirely sure he believed those things, too.  Strength was important—Alexei had told him so often that it was everything.  But it wasn’t, was it?  It was the wisdom that came with a level of understanding—wisdom that tempered the will to dominate . . . The wisdom of realizing that not everything could or should rely upon him . . .

Saori knew this, understood it, probably because she’d lived it.  The dynasty that she was a part of . . . They’d all taught her, hadn’t they?  Taught her that sometimes, it was okay to ask for help, that sometimes, it was the only thing that could really give a new perspective on a difficult dilemma.  She knew this because she’d seen it in action—the Inu no Taisho, the Japanese tai-youkai . . . Even the reaches of her family in North America . . . and if he wanted to be honest with himself, he’d have to admit that the majority of his trouble in reaching out, asking for advice, even trying to find homes for the orphans . . . That was all because of his own pride, his desire to do everything for himself, his disdain for feeling as though he might be beholden to someone else . . .

He made a face.  Not that he didn’t still feel it keenly . . . He did, of course.  He supposed that it was a part of him, so ingrained that it was there as surely as breathing.  That was his initial reaction to most things: the believe that he had to figure it out on his own.  It was a slow process, opening himself to the possibility that allowing others to aid him did not necessarily brand him as weak.  Maybe, if anything, it showed more strength, after all . . .

‘ _Very introspective this morning, aren’t you?_ ’ his youkai-voice murmured.

‘ _Maybe . . . Lately, though, it’s about the only time I’ve had to sit and think freely . . ._ ’

‘ _Since the arrival of her doting uncles, you mean?_ ’

‘ _Something like that,_ ’ he thought with an inward wince since he was still feeling the effects of the last few days of training.  Of course, ever since the kitchen incident with Ryomaru, it seemed to Fai that _that_ particular uncle was a little more blood-thirsty than usual.  Then again, he could just be imagining things . . .

‘ _Nope, he was definitely trying to kill you yesterday . . ._ ’

Fai snorted.  ‘ _Yeah, he probably was . ._.’

Good thing, then, that he and his mate as well as InuYasha and Kagome had left last night for the orphanage.  Nezumi—he’d been told that it meant, ‘rat’ in Japanese—had said she wanted at least a week to check over all the broken-down vehicles to see if she could salvage any of them, and apparently, Ryomaru and InuYasha both had a soft spots for children—something that Fai might not have guessed if he hadn’t seen the ridiculous number of toys and other necessities that they had collectively bought for the little ones . . . Those children were like to think that it was Christmas.  Then again, it wasn’t like there was ever much money for that, either . . . But even those children had heard the stories—the tales of the hanyou and priestess who had defeated Naraku so long ago.  Fai had little doubt that meeting InuYasha was going to akin to meeting a real-life super hero to those children . . .

“Morning.”

Smiling as he met Saori’s sleep-bleary gaze, he leaned down, kissed her forehead as she broke into a dreamy little grin and snuggled closer against him.  “Did I wake you?”

She shook her head, burrowing deeper into her pillow, her hands tucked under it, smiling up at him.  “No, but I had a really nice dream . . .”

“Oh?  Was I in it with you?”

She giggled.  “Not unless you were a giant mountain of cotton candy . . . In my dream, I had a stomach ache . . .”

He cocked an eyebrow at her.  “You ate a giant mountain of cotton candy in your dream?”

She nodded happily.  “And then, I drank out of a huge lake of hot chocolate . . .”

Fai snorted and rolled his eyes.  “You dream in candy?  Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Well, one time, I had a dream that I was being chased by a gargantuan marshmallow . . .”

He sighed.  “Yep, why would you possibly dream about me when you could dream about all the things that would make you sick if you ate them all?”

“You realize that I can’t really control who or what shows up in my dreams, don’t you?” she parried.

He finally gave in and chuckled.  “All right, as long as you’re not kissing someone else in your candy dreams,” he grumbled. Then he narrowed his eyes on her.  “You’re not, right?”

She giggled again, leaning up to kiss his chin in a wholly playful kind of way.  “No, no kissing, not anyone.”

He leaned over her, pinning her against the bed, leaning on his elbows to keep the bulk of his weight off of her as her giggling escalated.  “You’re making it really difficult for me to kiss you,” he told her.

She didn’t stop giggling as he stole a quick kiss, then sighed when she kept going.  “You know, you’re not too good on my ego . . .”

Grasping his face in her hands, she didn’t look contrite in the least, and that just figured.  “I think it’s going to be a beautiful day.  I can feel it.”

Her happiness was an infectious thing, and he chuckled, letting his forehead fall against hers.  Savoring the absolute closeness of the moment, he allowed himself another minute, just to breathe her in.  “All right.  As much as I’d love to hear more about your bellyache, I have some calls I have to return and a continent to watch over.  Want me to make your breakfast first?”

She sat up when he swung around, sitting on the edge of the bed.  “I could make breakfast for you,” she offered, rising up on her knees, slipping her arms around his neck, her hands clasped over his heart as she leaned against his back and planted a ridiculously loud kiss on his cheek.  “You go do your work, and I’ll bring it to you.”

He grunted.  “Can you even cook?”

She snorted.  “Baka,” she muttered, letting go of him so that she could slip off the other side of the bed.  She didn’t see his grin as she shuffled off to the bathroom.

Chuckling softly as he stood up and grabbed the pair of pants that he’d stripped off last night before bed, he made quick work of donning those as well as a clean shirt before letting himself out of the room.  His master plan was to get as much work out of the way as he possibly could before the tai-youkai, along with the potential adopter families started arriving late next week.  As always during the tai-youkai summits, a lot of discussion went on regarding trouble areas and other things of that nature, along with general information sharing and checking up on the progress of different global matters.  More often than not, Fai tended to keep his problems close to the vest.  He did rather hope, however, that there were things that he might be able to offer assistance with, given that they were all so open to the idea of taking some of the orphans into their jurisdictions—Ian MacDonnough, notwithstanding.

Which reminded him, too.  He still needed to call that bastard.  Not his favorite thing to do, given that MacDonnough had a terrible habit of being as asstastic as he possibly could be . . .

The curt knock sounded on the door as Fai stepped off the staircase.  Waving away Vasili as the butler hurried into the foyer, Fai frowned at the strange youki that he sensed but couldn’t quite place.  Almost familiar, but not quite—almost hostile, but not exactly . . .

Opening the door, a blander than usual expression on his face, it didn’t hold for long.  Eyes flaring wide for a mere moment, Fai was caught off-guard when the youkai narrowed his amber eyes, a menacing light igniting behind them as he deliberately flicked his hand, sending a sapphire blue energy ball, straight at him.

Fai barely had time to react, hopping out of the way to avoid the impact.  A moment later, the flash of energy crashed into the wall with such force that the very foundations of the castle shook and groaned.  “Sesshoumaru?” he blurted, but shook his head as he slowly straightened his back, squared his shoulders.  No, that wasn’t right . . . Too young to be Sesshoumaru, even if he looked just like the Inu no Taisho . . . But just who the hell was he . . .?

As suddenly as the menace in his aura had spiked, it disappeared as the tall, silver-haired dog crossed his arms over his chest, gave a thoughtful nod.  “Not bad, Demyanov-sama,” he allowed, the smallest hint of a grin surfacing on his ridiculously handsome features. There was a certain laziness in his gaze, the same kind of bored expression Fai had seen on Sesshoumaru’s face before.  “So . . . You’re Saori-chan’s chosen mate?”

Fai nodded just once, narrowing his gaze on the man who stepped inside.  “Who are you?”

A high-pitched squeal erupted behind them, and before Fai could figure out, just what was going on, Saori flew down the stairs, straight into the silver-haired man’s open arms.  “Nii-chan!” she exclaimed, leaning back to look up into his face.  “What are you doing here?”

“Fine way to greet me, Saori-chan,” he chided.  Then he chuckled.  “I just wanted to come meet your mate.  That’s all.”

She gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth as her eyes widened.  “My . . .? How did you—?”

Nii-chan rolled his eyes.  “Jiijii told me.”

She made a face, then giggled despite the blush that exploded in her cheeks, giving her nii-chan a quick hug before stepping back and gesturing at Fai.  “Figures . . . Nii-chan, this is Fai.  Fai, this is nii-chan—my brother—Rinji.”

 

* * *

 

 

Slowly pacing the length of the office floor as he scanned through the adoption applications contained in the slim-file, Rinji nudged the wire-rimmed glasses up his nose, a thoughtful scowl on his features as Fai eyed him, head bent as though he were reading the documents before him.

It was . . . uncanny. That was the only word that he could think of to describe it, really.  Family resemblance was one thing.  People had been known to say that Fai and Yerik looked like brothers, certainly.  Rinji Senkuro, however, was literally the spitting image of his great and noble grandfather . . .

“All of these look good,” Rinji remarked, glancing up just as Fai shifted his gaze back to the papers in his hand once more.  “She did a remarkable job.”

It was actually rather creepy . . . like he was a clone or something unnatural . . .

Fai cleared his throat, set the papers aside.  “She did.  I knew she would.  It’s why I offered her the job.”

Sucking in his cheeks, shifting his mouth to the side as his eyes narrowed slightly, Rinji stared at him.  “And that’s the only reason you came and . . . _appropriated_ my sister?”

The question was asked mildly enough.  Fai would have to be stupid to miss the undertone, though.  Big Brother wasn’t very pleased that Fai had stolen her right out from under his nose, as it were . . . “No, but I . . . I didn’t really know at the time . . . It’s not like that’s something you know from the second you meet someone.”

Rinji appeared to consider that.  Then he shrugged.  “I suppose.  Hell, I don’t know.  I don’t have one yet.”

Maybe he was the direct result of some kind of DNA manipulation . . .

“Can’t help you there, Rinji.  She found me, remember?”

Rinji opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut, cocking his head to the side as he slowly narrowed his eyes.  “You want to know why I look so much like my grandfather?” he asked dryly.

The expression on his face was most definitely a Sesshoumaru look, and that, in turn, sent a rather uncomfortable shiver down Fai’s spine.  “It _is_ a little weird,” he admitted.

Rinji rolled his eyes.  “Don’t worry.  You’re not the first one who thought it was strange.  From what I’ve been told, I look like kaa-san, and she tends to look a lot like ojii-san.”

Fai snorted.  “Shouldn’t you look at least a little bit like your father?”

Rinji shrugged.  “I suppose, but then, Saori looks exactly like a female version of him, so . . .” Resuming his pacing, he flipped through the files once more.  “So, I assume you’re going to marry my sister.  When?”

Fai blinked, shifted in his chair, unsure why that particular question caught him off-guard.  It really shouldn’t have—and it probably should have occurred to Fai already . . . but it hadn’t.  “Uh, we . . . We haven’t . . . uh . . . discussed it . . .”

Rinji nodded, but kept pacing.  “And I assume you intend to ask for permission to propose to her, as well?”

“. . . Permission?”

That got Rinji’s attention quickly enough.  Glancing up from the slim-file, he frowned thoughtfully.  “Of course . . . Otou-san . . . ojii-san . . . Well, all of us, actually.  I mean, Saori’s very special to all of us, and something like this?  It’s a big deal, don’t you think?  A _huge_ deal, really . . .”

“W—I—Uh—”

The look that Rinji dealt him then was enough to cut him off short.  The narrowing of the eyes was entirely menacing, the shake of his head was telling, too, but when he arched one of those articulated eyebrows . . .?  Fai grimaced inwardly.  “Your Grace . . .”

“Yes?”

Snapping the slim-file closed, he crossed his arms over his broad chest, leaning back just a little as he stared at Fai—hard.  “You’ll marry Saori before you make her your mate for real, won’t you?”

It was a question, but it didn’t feel like one.  Deliberately rising from his chair, he took his time, stalking over to fill a glass with vodka.  “That’s kind of personal, don’t you think . . . _nii-chan?_ ”

Suddenly, Rinji laughed—an entirely warm and welcoming kind of resonance.  “You’re right,” he said, shaking his head.  “It’s your business.  I had you going there for a second, though, didn’t I?”

Letting out a deep breath, Fai had to wonder if he’d actually lost that round, after all.  He rather had a feeling that he had . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Saori looked up when the soft knock sounded on her door.  Recognizing the familiar youki, she smiled.  “Come in,” she called.

Rinji opened the door, peeked in, only to smile when he spotted her, settled against the thick pillows in the large bed, slightly obscured by the yards and yards of netting, tied back to the high bed posts.  “Busy?”

She laughed and waved him in closer.  “No . . . Well, yes . . .” she sighed, setting aside the first ledger she’d been combing through.  “Fai asked me to look these over . . . He’s . . . He’s having a little trouble, trying to figure out, what’s going on with his accounts.”

Rinji’s smile faded as he sank down beside her.  “Can I?” he asked, holding out a hand.

She frowned.  She knew well enough that Fai really hated for outsiders to know his official business.  But Rinji . . . He was family, and more than that, this kind of thing?  It was what he did on a daily basis.

She handed it to him, and he scooted back beside her, bringing his long legs up onto the bed, crossing them at the ankles as he pulled his glasses out of his pocket and broke open the ledger.  “What is this?” he asked after a minute, flipping through the pages, pushing up his glasses with the back of his hand.

She shook her head, leaning in, peeking over his shoulder.  “What do you mean?  It’s the accounting.  Well, it’s the first year—I thought that’d be the most logical place to start.  It’s not much, is it?”  Shaking her head quickly, she sighed.  “I mean, it’s a good amount of money—a decent amount, really, but not when you consider everything he pays for . . .”

Rinji shrugged and flipped back to the beginning again.  “Okay, but this is just his personal accounting, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

Rinji turned his head, scowled at her.  “I mean, why does he pay everything out of one account?”

She bit her lip.  It had taken Rinji two minutes to ask the same question that it had taken her a few days to get around to questioning.  Of course, the first couple days, she’d spent, going through, making sure that all the figures in the ledgers were accurate.  Even so . . . “I’ll ask him, but when he gave me all of this, it’s all there was.  I just thought that maybe things were done differently here.  Maybe they just never felt the need to separate everything into an expense account and his personal one.”

Rinji shook his head.  “That could be,” he allowed slowly.  “But that seems pretty dangerous.  I mean, the separate accounts are used for safety, really . . . Just in case something unforeseen happens, then there’s the other account to fall back on, not to mention the added ease of being able to differentiate whether it’s an office expense or not . . .”

The door opened, and Fai stepped in, only to stop short when he spotted Rinji, stretched out on his bed.  Saori couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out of her when she saw the strange look on the tai-youkai’s face.  He really had no idea, just what to make of what he was seeing, and it showed in his expression.  “Fai, do you mind if Rinji sleeps with us?” she couldn’t resist asking.

That earned her a very droll kind of look as Fai started unbuttoning his shirt, heading for the bathroom.  “No, it’s fine, but I’m not cuddling with him.  At all,” he tossed over his shoulder.

“That’s . . . kind of gross,” Rinji muttered.  He started to sit up, but Saori caught his arm.

“He’s going to take a shower, nii-chan . . . You can stay till he’s done.”

Rinji didn’t look like he liked that idea especially, either, but he did lie back.  Then he smiled, his amber eyes glowing softly in the dim lamplight.  “All right, Chan-chan.  Tell me, how was your day?  No one was mean or picked on you, did they?”

She laughed since that was what he’d asked her every evening, either in person when he was there at the house or on the phone just before she went to bed.  “It was fine,” she assured him, letting her temple fall against his bicep. “No one was mean, and they didn’t pick on me, either.”

He chuckled, and the warmth of the sound was so welcome, so familiar, that it made her sigh.  “Good, because if they’re not nice to you, onii-chan will be happy to walk you to school every day . . .”

She grinned.  “What would you have done?  If someone had been mean to me?”

He snorted.  “That’s simple.  I’d have taught them the true meaning of fear,” he told her.

She wrinkled her nose.  “Except you’re onii-chan, and onii-chan is entirely too nice and too sweet to do any such thing.”

Heaving a sigh, shaking his head, Rinji shrugged his shoulder to shake her off.  It didn’t work.  “I’ll have you know that I can be just as intimidating as anyone.”

She laughed.  “Of course, you are.”

He sat up, obviously put out by the idea that she was simply humoring him.  “All right, I’m going to bed,” he told her, but he did pause long enough to kiss her forehead.  “You mind if I take these with me?  I’d like to take a better look at them.”

“Okay,” she agreed, sitting up, wrapping her arms around her raised knees.

He gathered up the ledgers, shot her another lopsided little grin.  “Night, Saori-chan.  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

She giggled, wiggling her fingers at him when he paused in the doorway and glanced back at her.

He closed the door behind himself, and she flopped back against the pillows once more.  She wasn’t sure that Fai wouldn’t mind, but since he was here, Rinji was the best one to ask, anyway.  Still, why did she feel like there was something she ought to know, maybe ought to see, that she was missing entirely . . .?

Fai slipped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing a pair of sleeping pants—she’d never seen those before—and a tee-shirt for good measure.  “I prefer the way you usually sleep,” she ventured as he rounded the bed and stretched out beside her.

“Your family’s strange, Saori.  I wasn’t entirely sure you were joking about him sleeping in here with us.”

She shook her head but laughed.  “He’s in a guest room, if you must know.  But I’m glad he’s here.”

Fai sighed, but the sound was more akin to a near-yawn than a sound of exasperation.  “He did offer to pay for the repairs in the foyer,” he mumbled.  “I realize that I should be magnanimous and tell him not to worry about it, but he tried to blast me to Kingdom Come.”

She wrinkled her nose, rolled over to snuggle against Fai’s side.  “He wouldn’t have done that,” she scoffed.

Fai didn’t look like he agreed, but he did slip his arms around her, pulling her a little closer.  “I still can’t get over how much he looks like your grandfather,” he admitted.

“Right?  They even smell very similar.  Used to confuse me so much when I was a pup . . .”

Fai grunted.  “I did mention that I think your family’s a little strange, didn’t I?”

She yawned, her eyes slowly drifting closed.  She was just too comfortable, too warm, too everything . . . “You’ll like them.  They’ll grow on you.”

This time, he snorted.  “Yep, just like a fungus—or a virus that you just can’t shake . . .”

She giggled.  “No, you will.  I promise.”

Letting out a deep breath, he kissed her forehead, gave her a little squeeze.  “Go to sleep, Saori.  Your Candy Land is waiting for you.”

She smiled, or at least, she thought she did.  Maybe she didn’t.  She was too close to sleep to tell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020 ——— AvinPhi
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— Toyasgurl ——— Amanda Gauger ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _It’s just … uncanny_ …


	48. 47: Questions

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_47_** ~~  
~ ** _Questions_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Something wasn’t right.

Letting out a deep breath as he scowled at the opened ledgers spread over the undisturbed bed in the comfortably appointed guest room that faced the east and the sun that was slowly creeping up over the horizon, Rinji had been up all night, poring over the books, line by line, and, upon first glance, it was all there; it was all fine.

But the longer that he’d looked them over, the deeper he’d gotten, he’d started to feel as though there was something he was missing—something that he knew, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  It was something that he suspected really should have been obvious—ridiculously obvious.

So, why wasn’t it?

It really didn’t make a bit of sense, though.  Why Demyanov was using his personal account to pay for everything?  That was the question that he’d been asking himself all night, really.  He knew enough to know that the various jurisdictions had always separated the funding for their systems and expenses just to keep bookkeeping relatively simple—at least, as simple as keeping those kinds of records ever were.

Rubbing his face as he set aside the ledger he had been examining, Rinji figured that a short break was in order.  Stripping off his clothes, laying them over the back of a chair, he shuffled off to the bathroom, unable to let go of the questions, churning around his head.

The steady strum of the hot water drew a low groan from him as he let his head fall back, silver hair sticking to his body like a second skin.  Slowly running his hands over his upturned face, he stood there for several minutes, letting the steaming flow relax him before finally reaching for the small bottle of unscented shampoo.

‘ _Why is it . . .?What am I missing here?_ ’ he asked himself, hating that feeling that something that should be so very obvious simply wasn’t.  Taking his time, he lathered his hair, idly enjoying the sensation of the soap as it trailed down his back, down his ass and hips and legs.

His youkai-voice sighed.  ‘ _Well, what kind of thing is it?  Maybe if you could determine, just what it feels like, it might help to narrow down just what kind of thing it could be . . ._ ’

It sounded logical, sure.  Too bad that things like this very rarely held much in the way of logic, and the worst thing about it?  He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t help but think that, whatever it was, it really should have been obvious . . .

But he’d been over everything, even looking back through receipts and records of scheduled payments.  Everything was in order.  Demyanov was meticulous when it came down to it.  Every last detail, right down to the deposits, and . . .

“The deposits,” he murmured, eyes flashing open wide.  “That’s . . .” He frowned, ducking under the water flow, scrubbing shampoo out of his hair almost impatiently.

That’s what it was, wasn’t it?  He’d gone through every last detail, everything that he knew should be in those ledgers, and he was right—dead right.  All of the records were there, and all of them were accurate down to the last detail.

Except . . .

Slapping his hand against the tap control, he reached for a towel to wrap around his hips, grabbing a second one to drape over his hair, squeezing water out of it as he hurried out of the bathroom once more.  Latching onto the first ledger he could reach—it really didn’t matter what year he was looking at—Rinji scanned page after page, looking for one particular entry, knowing that he wasn’t going to find it because it simply wasn’t there . . .

A soft knock on the door drew his attention, but he didn’t glance up as he kept scanning.  “Come in,” he called, the distraction in his voice very evident.

Saori slipped into the room, lost in the folds of a thick white robe.  He spared a moment to glance at her and shot her a wan little smile before returning to the ledger once more.  “Any luck?” she asked, her tone indicating that she didn’t really think he had.

Snapping the ledger closed, he let it fall out of his hand onto the rest of the pile.  “There are two accounts,” he said, dropping the damp hair towel on the floor in favor of rooting around for his cell phone.

“What?  No, there’s just the one,” she told him, settling on the edge of his bed, her knee drawn up, her other foot still on the floor.

“No, there’s not,” he told her.  “At least, I’m almost positive there’s not.”

“Who are you calling?” she challenged as he scrolled through the contacts in his phone.

“The one person who’ll know for sure,” he replied, hitting the button to send the call.

It only rang twice before the call connected.  “Rinji . . . Your mother tells me that you’re in Russia . . .”

“I am . . . Ojii-san, I was looking over Demyanov-sama’s books, and I was hoping you could tell me something . . .”

Sesshoumaru sent the call to video.  It took a few seconds for the feed to kick over.  “Faine’s books?  Why are you doing that?”

“He asked me to look at them,” Saori said, stretching out on her side to slip into frame beside Rinji, who had sat down on the other side of the bed.  “He thought maybe I’d be able to help him figure out a way to repurpose funds or to move things around so to make things a little easier, but—”

“I’ve been looking at them all night, and I realized . . . You deposit a stipend annually into each of the tai-youkai’s business accounts, don’t you?”

Sesshoumaru’s eyes narrowed.  “Strictly speaking, it’s not from me.  It’s from my office, but yes . . . Why?”

“That’s what I thought,” Rinji muttered.  “Demyanov-sama’s not getting them.  In fact,” he said, quickly rifling through the first one, “he never has gotten one—not one, not ever.”

“Impossible,” Sesshoumaru growled—or as close to a true growl as he ever would get, anyway.  “The transfers are automatic—the annual investment interest from the Inu no Taisho account is always disbursed.”

“Yeah, and another thing,” Rinji went on.  “Demyanov-sama only seems to use his personal account for everything—so it’s no wonder that he’s running so low on funds.  He makes a good profit from his distillery, but he’s using that, along with the money that was left to him, and he’s almost broke.  If he were only paying his own personal expenses out of the account, he’d be dead damn rich.  Paying for all the youkai services, too?  It’s a miracle he hasn’t gone broke already.”

“Rinji, I’m telling you, there are two accounts.  Alexei called me and asked me to take care of changing everything over for Faine before he stepped away, and I did as he requested.”

Rinji nodded.  “All right.  Is there a way to get Demyanov-sama the information he needs to access that account?  The amount of money in that one has to be staggering by now . . . He’s been tai-youkai for over fifteen years, and he’s never once drawn any funds from it . . .”

Sesshoumaru sighed—a strange and foreign sound, coming from him.  “I’ll gather the information he’ll need and bring it with me when we fly in for the tai-youkai summit . . . I think I need to have a talk with Faine, anyway . . .”

“See you then.”

“Bye, ojii-chan,” Saori called out just before the connection ended.  Turning her frown upon Rinji, she slowly shook her head.  “Nii-chan . . . What does all of this mean?”

Letting out a heavy breath, Rinji paused as he idly finger-combed his still-dampened hair.  “It means that Fai’s used funds he shouldn’t have had to in order to pay for all the services.  There’s always been a business account . . .” Seeing the confusion still heavy in Saori’s expression, he quickly shook his head.  “Ojii-san has an account—a trust fund, I guess you could call it.  That’s basically what it is.  I’ve heard him talk about it with Toga-oji-san before.  You know how your trust fund generates enough in interest and profit from the investments that you don’t ever have to actually dip into yours?  It’s the same idea.  The profits and interest from that account is divided annually between all the jurisdictions and deposited for that year’s expenses—everything that is involved with providing services or seeing that necessities are paid out . . . Russia is no different, but for some reason, Demyanov-sama doesn’t even seem to realize that this account even exists.”

“What kind of dividends are we talking about here?” she asked, slowly nodding as she considered everything he’d told her.  “If it’s enough to fund all youkai services . . .”

Rinji nodded, too.  “I don’t know, exactly, but it would stand to reason if we’re looking at a staggering amount of money, just for a single year—more than enough to fund all of Russia’s programs and then some.  He sighed, glancing at the stack of ledgers once more.  “Let me keep these a little longer,” he said.  “I’m going to break it down and figure out how much Demyanov-sama needs to be reimbursed since he’s paid it all out of his own private funds.”

She nodded and sat up.  “Okay . . . Get dressed, and we can go tell him all of this,” she said.  “Or you can . . . You’re the one who figured it out.”

Glancing down, he snorted.  He’d entirely forgotten that he was running around in nothing more than a towel.  “All right,” he told her.  “Get out of here, then, so I can get dressed, and I’ll go on down and talk to him.”

She hopped up with a giggle, hurrying over to give him a quick hug before dashing over to the door.

He smiled a little wearily as she closed the door in her wake.  Hopefully, this would help to alleviate a lot of the stress that Demyanov had to be feeling . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Crossing his arms over his chest, Fai frowned, shook his head slowly as he shifted his gaze from Rinji to Saori and back again.  What he’d been told . . . Was it some kind of weird and really bad joke . . .? “Wh . . .? _What . . .?_ ”

Rinji stood near the fireplace, mirroring Fai’s stance.  “Ojii-san set it up long ago,” he explained slowly, carefully.  “I don’t know when, exactly, he set up the Inu no Taisho fund, but I remember him saying that it was originally collections of things that he’d amassed over time: things that were gifted to him or that he’d acquired in the defeat of certain enemies . . . Lands and antiques . . . All kinds of things.  At some point, he sold off most of it, created the Inu no Taisho fund.  Then he invested parts of it, let some of it draw steady interest.  It’s grown to the point that it funds itself; that every year when the account is audited, the earned interest and the investment dividends are automatically divided between all the jurisdictions in the world, yours included.  It’s a secondary account that should be used to pay all of the things that run your social services—everything that has to do with the office of the tai-youkai . . . Everything that you’ve paid from your private accounts . . . Those things should have come out of this one.  Your money was never meant to fund the office you hold.”

Fai shook his head again, still not quite able to grasp the enormity of just what he was being told.  “But I’ve never . . . I was never given any information regarding a second account.”

Rinji shrugged.  “I don’t know the technicalities.  Ojii-san said that your father asked him to see that all his accounts were turned over to you, and he said that he did that.  I don’t know why you never received the information you needed . . . Maybe it was a bank oversight.  After all, they’d have been the ones to actually change everything over.  It would have been their responsibility to send the necessary paperwork to you.”

Letting out a deep breath, Fai covered his mouth with his hand.  “And all this time, I’ve been worried and wondering, trying to figure out how I was going to pay for . . .” He grimaced as his temper spiked.  It took him a minute to get it back under control—righteous indignation that he’d been beating his head against the proverbial wall, and all along . . .

Rinji smiled.  To Fai, it seemed like the kind of expression that one might get when one was trying to placate someone else.  “I’m going to go through your ledgers again.  Once ojii-san gets the information to you, there’s really no reason why you shouldn’t reimburse yourself for all the money you’ve paid out on behalf of your office.  I’ll get everything down, send it to ojii-san to be approved, but I don’t see that he’ll have a problem with that, either.”

“Uh, thanks,” Fai said.

Rinji nodded, letting his arms drop as he headed for the office door.  “Before that, however, I think I’m going to get some sleep.”

“Thank you, nii-chan,” Saori called after him.  Rinji lifted a hand to acknowledge her, but he didn’t stop, letting himself out of the room and closing the door behind himself.

“I’m . . . kind of glad that I asked nii-chan to look everything over,” she admitted when Fai remained silent.  “I might have figured out the same thing he did, but it would have taken me a bit longer.”

Flopping down in a nearby chair, Fai leaned forward, letting his face fall into his open hands.

To be honest, he wasn’t sure, what to think, not really.  On the one hand, he certainly was relieved enough.  On the other, though . . . Just how the hell did an account that large, end up being completely overlooked?

Saori wandered behind him, reaching over the back of the chair to rub his shoulders, and he groaned softly.  “You . . . You’re not happy about this?” she asked quietly, a little reluctantly, like she wasn’t sure just how he was going to respond to her.

He made a face, trying to shove away the unreasonable irritation that still plagued him.  “No, I am . . . I should be . . . I just feel entirely incompetent, if you want to know the truth.”

“You’re hardly incompetent,” she corrected him gently, her hands, kneading his shoulders.  “How would you have known about the second account if no one had told you, right?”

He sighed.  “I’m going to find out . . . Someone had to have known something.  Sesshoumaru . . . Rinji said that he asked the bank to sign everything over to me, so they’d have known about it . . .”

“Maybe,” she agreed in a rather philosophical kind of tone.  “And there was nothing about the second account when they delivered all the information?”

“Evgeni brought that stuff to me,” he replied.  Then he shook his head again, as though to clear away his thoughts.  “Maybe it was a simple oversight,” he ventured at length.  Letting out another deep breath, he caught her wrist, pulled her around the chair and into his lap, slipping his arms around her, resting his chin on her head when she relaxed against him.  Simply wishing to draw a measure of calm from her, he deliberately drew a few deep breaths, willed away the questions, the anger . . . Concentrating instead on the feel of her youki, the sweetness that was her, he closed his eyes for a moment, breathed her in deep.  “I’ll call the bank,” he finally said.  “I think I’ll take a day or two, though—try to focus on the positives—if I can.”

Toying with the buttons of his shirt—she didn’t unfasten them—Saori smiled up at him.  “I guess you can afford to keep the orphanage for real now.”

He nodded.  “Maybe.  I still would like to see as many of them placed into their own homes as possible.”

“Me, too,” she agreed.

There was simply something about her that soothed him, and he . . .

He loved that about her . . .

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh . . . Oh, that’s just . . . Isn’t that simply _precious_ , don’t you think?”

“Precious enough that it kind of makes you want to puke.”

“Should we be, uh, staring at them . . .? It feels a little . . . wrong . . .”

“Well, if you’re worried that he’s going to get all bent out of shape and declare war, at least he’s got her, pining him down, so you’d at least get that much of a head start . . .”

“My sister isn’t to be used as a human shield, you realize.”

“. . . Saori’s your sister . . .?”

“Of course, she’s my sister.  She looks just like me.”

A very loud snort.

“. . . Oh, uh . . . but she . . . She really doesn’t . . .”

“What the hell do you three want?” Fai grumbled without moving and without opening his eyes.  At some point, he’d fallen asleep with Saori—a huge mistake, apparently . . .

Yerik chuckled.  “Sleeping on the job, Fai?” he deadpanned.

“Do you often sleep in your office?” Rinji asked.

“It’s a very precarious position you occupy, Your Grace,” Konstantin remarked.  “I’m not entirely sure that I can endorse what you’re doing in here right now . . .”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Fai pointed out.  “Is this really any of your concerns?”

“The Asian tai-youkai, fast asleep in his office,” Yerik went on, apparently deciding that having a death wish was in order.

“You know that anyone could just walk right in here, and they’d find you asleep—with my sister,” Rinji added, leaning back as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Konstantin nodded slowly, almost sagely.  “His Grace is a good and fair tai-youkai—a good and fair tai-youkai who snores . . .”

Fai snorted.  “I don’t snore.”

Rinji shrugged.  “Well, you do—but she does, too, so I guess it’s a match made in heaven—or hell . . .”

Konstantin turned suddenly, stared hard at Rinji.  “Is she _really_ your sister?”

“Yes.  Yes, she is.  When she was an infant, she refused to sleep anywhere but on my chest, so I know first-hand that she does, in fact, snore . . . Let’s just hope she’s outgrown her habit of passing gas on me, too . . .”

“Nii-chan!” Saori groaned, sitting up straight and smashing her hands over her mouth, proving that she, too, had woken up at some point or another, and had just been playing opossum, too.

Fai cleared his throat.  “I can’t say I’ve ever noticed her doing such a thing, no.”

Saori groaned again and hopped up off of Fai’s lap, only to scurry over to the door as fast as she could without breaking into an actual run. “Baka!” she blurted as she slammed out of the office.  The word and the crack echoed in her wake.

Rinji grinned, entirely unrepentant, and why should he be when Fai was the one who would have to coax her out of her embarrassment later on . . .? “Okay, Kostya.  He’s awake,” he said, gesturing at Fai, who still hadn’t bothered to get out of the chair.

“Is everything all right, Kostya?” Fai asked, opting to ignore Rinji’s commentary, at least, for the moment.

Rinji chuckled.  Yerik flopped down on the sofa, eyes sparkling since he made no bones about the idea that he found the entire thing to be amusing as all hell.

“It’s fine,” Konstantin said.  “Your Grace!  I am here to continue our challenge to find out who is the manliest in all of Russia!”

“Oh, that again,” Yerik muttered, slowly shaking his head though his obvious amusement hadn’t waned at all.

“Wait . . . continue?  They’ve done this before?” Rinji asked, peering back at Yerik, who was still sprawled out on the sofa.

“At least there’s no homemade vodka this time,” Yerik quipped.  “We can be thankful for that, at least . . .”

“The jug is in my car!” Konstantin bellowed.  “And this time, I have brought the gorodki!”

Fai snorted.  “I am not going to— gorodki, you say?”

Yerik sighed, then chuckled.  “Come on, Rinji.  This should be interesting, at the very least . . .”

Rinji spared him a rather foreboding look.  “What’s gorodki?”

“It’s a game,” Yerik said.  “I guess you could say it’s kind of like bowling and horseshoes, put together . . . The goal is to take out the gorodki in the fewest number of throws.”

Rinji blinked.  “It’s a game?”

Yerik grinned, hauling himself to his feet once more.  “It used to be.  Apparently, it’s now a measure of a man’s manliness . . .”

Konstantin grunted.  “A _manly_ game!  Now, come, Your Grace! Today is the day that we shall prove who the manliest man in Russia truly is!”

Fai considered, trying to talk Konstantin out of it for a few minutes.  Then again, if all it took to make the big man happy was a game of gorodki, then who was he to complain?

‘ _Uh huh . . . because you aren’t even remotely interested in the game, right?_ ’

Fai didn’t respond to that, but he did chuckle softly as he followed the others out of his office.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Skittles_** _(gorodki) is a traditional Russian folk game. The players take turns to throw bats or sticks with the aim of knocking down five skittles (cylindrical wooden stumps) arranged in various configurations. The pitch is known as the “town” or gorod, while the skittles themselves are called gorodki (“little towns”). The winner is the player or team who knocks down the figures at the least number of attempts. Although the game has existed in Russia for several centuries, the rules were only codified in 1923_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Rinji_** :  
>  _Damn_ …


	49. 48: Suspicion

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_48_** ~~  
~ ** _Suspicion_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

‘ _Do you think we should do something?_ ’

Perched atop the low railing that surrounded the patio directly behind the mansion, Saori crossed her arms over her chest and thoughtfully bit her lip as she watched the ridiculousness laid out before her.

Four grown men, all of them acting fairly foolish since all of them were also well beyond drunk, too.

The gorodki battle had ended with Fai and Rinji holding the upper hand since they’d opted to divide into teams, leaving Konstantin and Yerik on the other one.  Every time one of them tossed a bat to knock over the wooden pins, they’d all swigged the vodka in the huge brown jug.  Saori had no idea, just how much was left in that jug, but all four of them were currently staggering around in such a way that she really had to wonder about the wisdom of it all.

Since their team had won the gorodki match, they’d gotten to choose the next tournament, which, in hindsight, was probably a pretty bad idea.  Fai, in one of his more inspired moments, had decided that Rinji should choose the next round, and her brother—kami help her—had decided in his infinite wisdom that sumo wrestling would be a great way to go.

So, she was watching four nearly naked men, stumbling all over the yard while Rinji tried to explain the basic rules of the sport, but she was pretty convinced that he really had no idea, because she didn’t really believe that there was an official rule regarding the pantsing of one’s opponent.  According to Rinji’s unofficial-official rules, the first one to force their opponent out of the ring—it was lopsided—or to the ground with any body part other than the soles of one’s feet, or to de-pants the opposition would win the match, best three of five . . .

‘ _Well, look at the bright side.  You’re seeing a whole lot of Fai-sama at the moment, right?  So, that has to account for something . . ._ ’

She snorted, digging out her cell phone and snapping a picture of her beloved brother, who had been more than happy to strip down to his boxers along with the rest of them.  Then she sent the picture to Aiko and stowed her phone once more.

“Saori, come over here!  We need an official!” Fai called.

She quickly shook her head.  “Oh, no . . . No, thank you.”

“Are you kidding?  She’s entirely biased!” Yerik complained.  “She’s your mate and his sister!  Where’s Vasili?”

“We are all honorable men,” Konstantin interrupted.  “We can judge ourselves!”

Fai snorted.  “Yeah, that’s not going to work, Kostya,” he muttered.  “Saori, will you go find Vasili?”

She hopped off the wall and headed inside.  It was entirely likely that Vasili had no clue when it came to the rules of sumo wrestling, either, but she supposed that wouldn’t really matter too much; not when the participants were all drunk, anyway . . .

She found the butler near the back doors, staring outside in such a way that it was quite apparent to Saori that he had no idea what the men were doing—and rather didn’t look like he really wanted to find out, either.  “Vasili-san, Fai asked me to come find you.”

The butler shot her a look that could only be described as, ‘suspect’.  “Forgive me, my lady, but . . . Do you know why . . .?”

She giggled.  “Well, I think they wanted an impartial judge,” she explained.

He looked entirely horrified—not that she blamed him.  “But . . . What are they doing?”

She tried to keep a straight face; she really, really did.  She didn’t, but she tried.  “They’re sumo-wrestling.”

“Oh, dear God,” the butler mumbled.  “I . . . I see . . .”

She laughed again.  “Better you than me,” she told him, shaking her head since she was entirely pleased that she wasn’t the one who was going to have to judge the ridiculous tournament.

Vasili didn’t look at all pleased as he heaved a sigh and made his way outside.

Saori followed at a bit of a distance, just in case the butler thought that he’d try to weasel out of it.  Her phone chimed as she hopped back onto the wall, and she wasn’t surprised at all to see that it was her mother, video calling.

“Kaa-chan!” she greeted happily when the video feed connected.

Aiko laughed as she tucked her hair behind her ear.  She was wearing one of her smart suit jackets with the security clearance badge hanging around her neck from a black lanyard.  “Saori, what’s this picture you sent me?” she asked, her smile brightening as she sat at her desk and settled the phone into the docking station.  It transferred the feed to a bigger screen she’d pulled down over her desk.

Saori giggled and turned the phone so that her mother could see just what was going on.  Rinji was facing off against Konstantin, and, though her brother was very tall, fairly broad of shoulders, even if he was very narrow of waist and well-toned overall, he looked so pathetically small in comparison to the lumbering bear-youkai . . .

“Oh . . . That doesn’t really look like a fair match, does it?” Aiko remarked, sounding rather concerned.  Then, she giggled, too.  “Two thousand yen says that your brother takes him down.”

“Kaa-chan!” Saori gasped.  “Okay.”

It took a few minutes for Rinji and Fai to explain the sport to Vasili, who had a very limited grasp of English.  Rinji explained everything once more to Fai, who then translated it into Russian for Vasili.  If she’d thought that he looked entirely horrified before, the expression was even more pronounced now.

“I don’t know . . . Nii-chan made up some weird pantsing rule,” Saori muttered.

Aiko laughed.  “Well, that’s actually a rule,” she said.  “It didn’t used to be, but awhile back, they decided that you would win if you could manage to remove your opponent’s mawashi . . . I believe that rule was created when more of the attitudes toward nudity started to change . . .”

Saori snorted.  “It disturbs me that nii-chan knew this.”

“Your brother is a fan of sumo wrestling.”

“He is?”

Aiko laughed more.  “Yes, he is.  Anyway, tell him to take down that big ol’ bear!”

“Rinji!  You’d better win for kaa-chan!”

Saori pressed her lips together when Rinji’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing on the phone that Saori held out to catch the action.  He chuckled, swaying slightly on his feet.  “ _Hai_ ,” he replied, thumping his chest in a rather tipsy kind of way.

“Drink before battle!” Konstantin announced, stumbling over with the jug of questionable vodka.  Uncorking the jug with a flourish before tipping it to his lips, he unleashed a loud growl as he handed it over to Rinji.

“What’s he drinking, Saori?” Aiko asked as she looked on.

“I’m not entirely sure,” she replied.  “They said it was homemade vodka, and they’ve been passing that jug around awhile . . .”

“Oh, that can’t be good . . .” Aiko murmured.

Saori laughed.  “Do you want to change your bet?”

She thought about that.  “No . . . I mean, they’ve all been drinking, right?”

“Yes, they have.”

Yerik wandered over to Fai, handing him the jug as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tried not to look like he might well be sick.  Fai took it and tipped it back, managing to swallow with a grimace as the fire liquid burned all the way down while Rinji and Konstantin stomped one foot in customary sumo style before bending over, smashing both hands down at the same time.  They also both nearly toppled right over, but . . .

It was more of a farce than an actual match.  Konstantin had no idea, just how to go about doing it while Rinji was far too tipsy to do much more than shuffle his feet.

“This is kind of sad,” Aiko remarked after a minute of the combatants doing nothing.  “Rinji!  Take him down!” she hollered.

Rinji lunged, actually stumbling toward Konstantin instead of properly attacking.  He caught the bear around the neck, and it was the brunt of his weight that forced Konstantin off balance enough that he dropped to one knee.  The offset caused Rinji to fall, too, but Konstantin’s knee had touched down first.  Vasili raised his hand as soon as he saw it.  “Winner, Master Rinji,” he announced.

The two men fell over, laughing hysterically, and Aiko laughed.  “You owe me, Saori,” she remarked.  “You can pay me when we get there.”

“You’re coming?” she asked, turning the phone to face her again.

Aiko nodded.  “Demyanov-sama invited us—your father and me.  He said you were homesick, so we’re flying out tonight.  We just had to take care of a few things here in the office first.”

“Really?” she asked, unable to help the happy smile that shot to the fore.

“He’s a good man, your Demyanov-sama,” Aiko told her.  “I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got a meeting to get to.  Tou-chan and I will see you in a few hours.”

The call ended, and Saori bit her lip, staring at the phone for a moment before hopping down off the fence and hurrying over to Fai.  She didn’t stop to think about it or to worry that everyone was there, watching.  So overwhelmed with the idea that he’d care enough to call her parents, to invite them to visit, all she could think was that she . . . She loved him . . .

Throwing herself against him, uttering the smallest little scream as the two of them fell, hit the ground, Saori laughed suddenly, kissing Fai before he could even make sense of what was happening.  Slowly, his arms closed over her as he started to kiss her back.

“What was that for?” he asked her, making a valiant effort to focus on her face when she leaned up to smile at him.

“For being you,” she replied simply.  He looked entirely confused for a long moment.  Then, he smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

Slumped over the table on the enclosed patio off of the dining room, Fai made a face as he slugged back another cup of black coffee in an effort to rid his body of the toxic ooze that Konstantin called vodka.  The other three?  Fai snorted, grimacing when the sound of it rattled through his head.  They were upstairs, sleeping it off—bastards, the lot of them.

He didn’t get that luxury, nope.  Considering Saori’s parents were due to arrive soon enough, he was trying to sober up before then . . .

‘ _Considering you want their daughter to be your mate?  Greeting them, drunk off your ass is probably a pretty poor idea; you’re right._ ’

He groaned, lifting a hand to shield his eyes against the sunshine that streamed through the bank of windows.  How was it that he could have forgotten that little nugget of information, anyway?  If he had, then he certainly wouldn’t have accepted Konstantin’s ridiculous challenge—well not until tomorrow, maybe.

‘ _That might be, but you know, after all of that, we’re still tied with Konstantin._ ’

Fai sighed.  There was that, too.

‘ _You know, it’s kind of sick, just how competitive you get when Kostya alludes to the idea that you may not be the manliest man in Russia . . . You get that, right?_ ’

‘ _It’s not such a bad thing, to be competitive,_ ’ he argued, rubbing his forehead, wondering if anyone would notice if he really did, steal away upstairs to try to sleep it off.  As it was, he was stuck in that middle area, somewhere between happily besotted and feeling like complete and utter crap . . .

“Here you go, Your Grace . . . A nice bowl of porridge and some black bread . . . Olga swears that it’s a good thing to eat when you’re . . . um . . . slightly under the weather, as it were . . .”

Sparing a moment to glower at the butler as he set a bowl of very bland looking food before him.  He was about to push it all away, but then, thought better of it when his phone chimed.  It was Saori, letting him know that she had just left the airport with her parents and were on their way back.  She’d at least taking a little bit of pity upon him and mentioned that they’d be stopping for dinner before returning to the castle, which might give him another hour . . . Maybe . . .

He grimaced after the first spoonful.  “Vasili, bring me the salt,” he called before the butler could slip away.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.  Olga insists that it needs to be as bland as possible so you can eat it all without getting violently sick from it.”

For some reason, he had the feeling that the butler was enjoying the entire thing just a little more than he really ought to.

“Then pepper is off limits, too?” Fai growled.

Vasili nodded.  “If you’re good, then I need to make sure that the guest chamber is entirely in order?”

“Go,” Fai muttered.

It didn’t take him too long to finish off the food that Olga had sent out for him.  Willpower alone had pushed him through it as he choked down the last of the bland and dry bread.  It was helping, though, he thought as he slugged down the rest of the cup of black coffee before reaching for the carafe again.  He still felt fairly miserable, but the food seemed to be soaking up some of the vile vodka still in him, he supposed.

Of course, it didn’t do anything about the thundering headache that ricocheted around his brain.  If he lived through the next few hours, he supposed he’d deserve some kind of medal . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Saori slipped into Fai’s office after leaving her parents with Vasili, who was showing them to their room.  Fai hadn’t appeared to greet them.  She only hoped that he was feeling a little better than he was when she left, so it had surprised her when Vasili had told her that he’d gone to his office and hadn’t been seen since.

Of course, Aiko wasn’t surprised at all that Fai wasn’t with her when she’d picked them up at the airport.  Seiji, however, had grunted, looking entirely offended that Fai hadn’t come along.  She wasn’t sure if her mother hadn’t told him about the drinking match that she’d seen or not, but he hadn’t said anything—yet, anyway . . .

Fai was laying on the sofa, fast asleep, and she smiled.  Snoring lightly, his arm stretched up over his head, bent over his eyes, he looked so much different, didn’t he?  It was so hard to see other parts of his expressions, his face, when his eyes were open.  So bright, so vivid that she usually found herself mesmerized, she loved these moments when she could take some time to just look at him, to appreciate him . . . and to wonder just what she’d done in her life to deserve to find someone like him . . .

‘ _Do you really think so?  I mean, sure, he’s fun to look at, but you realize, right?  He’s your mate, so that means he probably feels a lot like you do . . . And you need to remember, too.  He’s just a man, as fallible as any other.  Don’t expect him to be perfect . . . Just love him for who he is._ ’

It was a rare thing when her youkai-voice offered her advice that wasn’t based upon some wacky idea that she would do better to ignore.  This time, however, the words . . . They made sense, didn’t they?

Biting her lip as she knelt beside the sofa, taking her time as she gently brushed the long bangs out of his face, she giggled softly when he leaned into her touch, uttering the softest little moan, the sweetest little sigh . . .

She really could just sit there, staring at his sleeping face.  Too bad it wasn’t really an option.  Still, she took the time to kiss him gently, to snuggle her cheek against his before leaning in to whisper to him.  “Fai . . . Fai-sama . . .”

He let out a deep breath, slowly opened his eyes.  It took him a moment to focus on her face, and when he finally did, he arched an eyebrow.  “Didn’t we already talk about the whole -sama thing?”

She giggled and planted a noisy kiss on his cheek.  “Well, we did,” she allowed with a shrug as he turned onto his side, slipped his arms around her.  “But you were sleeping, so . . .”

He nodded, though he didn’t look like he was buying her excuse completely.  “Did your parents have a good flight?”

She nodded, too, idly letting her fingers lift his hair, only to watch it flow through her fingers and drift back down again.  It looked like rich sable with a vague tint of red, hints of gold . . . He managed a wan smile despite the lingering darkened smudges under his eyes.  “They did.  Tou-chan was a little . . . unhappy that you weren’t with me at the airport, but right now, he’s settling in with kaa-chan, so you’re safe for the moment.”

He snorted.  “I’m not afraid of your father,” he grumbled despite the hint of pink that crept into his cheeks.  “. . . I could take him, if I had to . . .”

Saori giggled, and when he narrowed his eyes on her, she giggled harder, to the point that she brought her hands up, covering her mouth as the laughter bubbled out of her.

He grunted.  “You know, I’ve fought far more life and death battles that your father has,” he pointed out haughtily.  “Stop that, will you?  You’re underestimating my abilities.”

Even so, the harder she tried to control her laughter, the worse it became.  In the end, he heaved a sigh, letting his arms drop away from her as he pushed himself upright and rubbed his face.  “You’re hell on my ego, you know,” he grumbled.

She rose up on her knees, snuggled against him, forcing her head under his chin.  “I know, you’re absolutely a fierce man,” she said.  He sighed at the hint of mollification in her tone.  “You did very well in your sumo-wrestling match.”

He leaned back to look at her as though he thought that she was simply pacifying him.  “It was against Yerik,” he muttered.  “It wasn’t that hard to do, especially when he was drunker than the rest of us, put together.”

Pressing her lips together to keep from laughing outright, Saori nodded slowly, deciding it was better to allow his ego to remain intact, even though he did have a point.  Poor Yerik, at only eighteen, wasn’t nearly as good at holding his liquor, and, given that we weighed less than anyone else, it wasn’t really surprising that he’d suffered the most from the overindulgence.  Then again, it wasn’t like anyone made him do it, either . . .

“If it makes you feel better, you’re _my_ manliest man in all of Russia,” she ventured.

He didn’t look like he actually believed her, but he sighed and kissed the top of her head.  “Somehow, I feel like you’re just saying that,” he muttered.

She smiled, leaning up to kiss his chin.  “Well, I’m not,” she assured him.  “As for tou-chan . . . If you know anything about Intelliface, you could just get him talking about that.”

“Are you giving me advice on how to woo your father?”

She laughed again.  “Maybe.  Is that bad?”

“Nope,” he decided.  Then he chuckled.  “Thank you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra chapter to thank y’all who helped me raise the costs for the server and such!  You all are awesome!  I’ll post the regular chapter for tonight later on!  Thanks again!! 
> 
>  _2000 Japanese yen is just short of twenty US dollars at current conversion rates_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Goldeninugoddess ——— xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18 ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _Nii-chan_ …


	50. 49: Senkuro

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_49_** ~~  
~ ** _Senkuro_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Fai sat up, blinking slowly as the burgeoning daylight filtered through the windows.

He sighed, wrapping his arms around his knees as he frowned at the entirely too-still room.

It did very little good for him to know that Saori wasn’t that far away—just through the doorway, actually—in his mother’s old room.  ‘ _He did it on purpose,_ ’ Fai thought with a snort.

‘ _Can you blame him?  She’s his daughter—his pride and joy—his baby girl.  What do you think he was going to do?_ ’

Fai made a face since he understood that part of it.  That Saori had no qualms about going along with it, though, bothered Fai so much more than the idea that her father had opted to escort her up to bed without stopping at the antechamber door like anyone else with any viable manners might have.  Nope, he had to escort her to her own room, and the look he’d dealt Fai had spoken volumes.  The man wasn’t dumb, it seemed, not that Fai thought anything of the sort.  He’d very deliberately stepped over to Saori’s pretty little bed, making a show of sniffing her pillows that smelled nothing at all like her since she wasn’t in the habit of sleeping in there, anyway.

On the one hand, if he weren’t so annoyed, he might have to respect a man who cared so deeply about his daughter.  On the other?  It was dead damn infuriating, too, especially when it directly upended Fai’s ability to sleep.  Saori had shot him a pleading kind of look, though—one designed to stop Fai from pitching a tai-youkai sized fit over the inconvenience and irritation that something as intensely personal as where either of them were to sleep was being called into question at all . . .

And, as far as he knew, Seiji was still camped out in the antechamber to make sure that Fai didn’t try to go fetch her—or to sneak into her bed, for that matter.

“ _So . . . My daughter tells me that you were sleeping off an overindulgence instead of accompanying her to the airport to pick us up,” Seiji remarked when he stepped into the office about half an hour after Saori had so uncharacteristically woke him up.  “Did you have a nice nap, Demyanov-sama?_ ”

 _The sarcasm in the dog-youkai’s voice was thick enough to choke a horse, but Fai managed to cover his own irritation at being called on the carpet, as it were.  “I apologize,” he gritted out, hoping that Saori didn’t catch his tone.  “I was . . . challenged, you might say, and, as you know, I cannot back down from a formal challenge_.”

 _Seiji grunted, straightening his back, pinning Fai with a rather formidable glower.  His coloring was the same as Saori, but where she was entirely cute all the time, her father?  Not so much.  Nope, the man had the fatherly glare down to a science, and Fai had to wonder just how many potential beaux he’d sent, running for cover over the years . . . “I’d hardly call a drunken sumo match, ‘challenged’, Demyanov-sama_.”

 _Saori cleared her throat.  “Tou-chan, Fai and Rinji won, you know,” she pointed out_.

 _Seiji grunted.  “Of course, they did—all due to Rinji’s natural abilities, I have little doubt.  Besides . . . Losing to a bear?  Lose to a bear, and you’d be better off not to ever show your face around me_.”

“ _Tou-chan!” Saori scolded, crossing her arms over her chest_.

 _Seiji frowned at her.  “Why don’t you go help your mother get settled in, Saori_.”

 _She sighed, mostly because it was more of an order than a request, and the tone of his voice rankled Fai’s nerves.  Sure, she was his daughter, but she wasn’t a child.  Before he could say anything, though, she gave him an encouraging little wave and slipped out of the office, leaving the men alone, and didn’t that just figure_?

 _Neither said anything for a few minutes.  Digging his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, Seiji wandered around the office as though he were assessing Fai simply by what he found.  It was possible, Fai supposed.  Even so, as the seconds stretched out, he finally turned to face Fai once more, his gaze narrowed, head slightly tilted back, obviously assessing him slowly, deliberately . . . “Is it true?  Is my daughter your mate?_ ”

 _Fai didn’t blink.  “She is_.”

“ _And did you know this when you came and took her from my home?  From_ her _home?_ ”

“ _I . . . I didn’t know it then,” Fai admitted.  “I only knew that I . . . That I had to see her again_.”

 _Seiji nodded slowly—very slowly.  “And you knew that Sesshoumaru and I had come here to talk to you, didn’t you?  Still, you decided to take it upon yourself to abscond with my daughter—to not tell me what you were doing?  To take the coward’s way out of it?_ ”

 _Dangerously close to taking complete and utter offense to Seiji’s choice of words, Fai had to count to ten before he trusted himself to speak.  That the man loved his daughter was a given.  But to blatantly insult Fai’s honor was taking it entirely out of bounds, as far as he was concerned.  “It wasn’t until I was there that I found out that you were here,” he said, unable to keep his own irritation out of his voice.  “Your mate suggested that I take Saori with me. I thought it would be the wisest course, to keep Saori from being put in the middle of things, but if you call that cowardly, then so be it.  I call it caring about your daughter—my_ mate’s _—feelings_.”

Blinking as he realized that he was growling out loud, just from the memory of that unpleasant confrontation, Fai couldn’t help the irrational need to lash out at something.  Unfortunately, there was nothing at all in front of him that would possibly suffice.

‘ _Don’t be sore because he raked you over the coals, Fai . . . It’s a father’s responsibility . . . If you ever have a little girl, you’ll be just as bad._ ’

‘ _The hell you say!  If we have a daughter, I’ll_ throw _her at her mate; see if I don’t._ ’

‘ _Oh, you will not!  Now, you’re just being an ass . . ._ ’

Fai grunted since he wasn’t about to admit that he might not do what he’d just threatened.  ‘ _Fine.  Then we just won’t have a daughter.  Simple._ ’

‘ _You’re not going to—? Are you serious?  You realize, right, that you can’t actually dictate the gender of your children.  May you live long and be blessed with many daughters, idiot tai-youkai_ . . .’

‘ _Un huh . . . That’s why I’ll throw them at their mates,_ ’ he maintained stubbornly.

‘ _You’re so stupid.  Why are you so stupid?  Surely you realize just how stupid you’re being, right . . .?_ ’

Tossing aside the duvet, he rolled out of bed and heaved another sigh.  It was unbelievable, really.  There wasn’t another way to put it.  Hopefully, the same thing wouldn’t occur tonight.  After all, Seiji couldn’t possibly be that ridiculously overprotective, could he?

‘ _Don’t discount the ability of a man to overprotect his daughter._ ’

‘ _You know, if you’re not going to help me, then you could just shut up._ ’

‘ _Help you, what?_ ’

‘ _Help me figure out how to get some time with Saori without her father breathing down our backs, for starters . . ._ ’

‘ _Oh, now, it’s not that bad—_ ’

‘ _Debatable._ ’

‘ _And remember . . ._ ’

‘ _Remember, what?_ ’

‘ _Well, you know . . . You invited them . . ._ ’

Stopping short at that nasty reminder, Fai heaved a heavy sigh as his youkai-voice chuckled without mercy in his head.  Yeah, he did do that, didn’t he?  It figured, didn’t it?

Rubbing his face as he stomped into the bathroom, Fai growled as he kicked the door closed.  Yep, the whole thing was all his own doing.  It didn’t really make it any easier to deal with, though.  Not at all . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Raised voices broke through Saori’s fitful slumber, and she sat up, rubbing her eyes, feeling as though she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, as she struggled to make sense of what was going on just outside her door.

She hadn’t slept well last night.  Having been so unceremoniously escorted to her room by her doting father, there hadn’t been any way to sneak into Fai’s room—not after her father had decided to lock the inner adjoining door and slip the key into his pocket.  On one level, it was kind of silly, wasn’t it?  After all, she shouldn’t have to sneak anywhere, should she?  On the other hand, she just didn’t have it in her to argue with her dear father, either, even when he was being a little—or a lot—over the edge.

‘ _Except you did try to sneak out last night, to sneak into Fai’s room . . ._ ’

Wrinkling her nose, she shook her head and smothered a sigh.  Sure, she’d tried, only to find out that her father had taken up residence on the floor with his back against her door, and her poor mother had no choice but to try to sleep on the sofa nearby since she didn’t like having to be away from her mate, even for one night . . .

Stumbling out of bed when the voices grew louder, Saori frowned as she opened the door and peered into the antechamber.  She should have known, shouldn’t she?  Crossing her arms over her chest as she watched the debacle unfolding, she slowly shook her head, leaned her shoulder in the doorframe.

“You realize, don’t you, that you’re guarding a fully-grown woman who is more than old enough to make her own choices as to where she sleeps and who she chooses to sleep with,” Fai growled, standing toe to toe with her father.

Seiji, however, wasn’t about to back down, either.  “Is that right?  Well, until you marry her, then you really have no say in the matter, and since you haven’t mentioned that at all, then I’ll assume that you aren’t exactly in a rush to see it done, now are you, _Your Grace?_ ”

“Just because we haven’t discussed it yet doesn’t mean that I don’t want to—You know, with all due respect, you don’t know a single thing about me, but you’re entirely too ready to write me off as a complete bastard, aren’t you?  Do you honestly think that your daughter would be foolish enough to want to be with someone who wouldn’t have her best interests in mind all of the time?” Fai snarled.

“What I see,” Seiji growled, taking another step closer to Fai, glowering at him as though he were absolutely the enemy, “is a young man who takes it upon himself to change the rules to suit his whims without any regard as to what her family might think—what we feel might be best for her.  She was wrong to kidnap you, but she’s young and impetuous—which, you should agree, are not good traits to have when contemplating, devoting the rest of your life to someone when lust is the only thing in your young head . . . Of course, she likes you.  All wrapped up in a pretty package, the first man who lavished her with attention . . . That means nothing _to me_ , you realize, when it comes to my daughter’s ultimate happiness!”

Saori gasped sharply, though the sound went unnoticed by the two men who were still facing each other down.  She felt all the blood recede from her face, only to come rushing back a moment later in livid heat as she blinked quickly, trying to stave back the tears that rose to cloud her vision.

“Tou-san.”

Both men turned, stared at Rinji, who was standing the hall doorway, arms crossed over his chest, making no bones at all as he shook his head at his father.  His irritation was easily discerned, and, as Seiji looked at him, Rinji nodded curtly toward Saori—still standing in her doorway—where no one else had noticed her at all.

Staring at the floor, unable to look anyone in the eye, she said nothing as Aiko sighed and hurried over, wrapping an arm around Saori’s shoulders as she glowered at Seiji and Fai by turns and herded Saori back into her room once more, closing the door behind them.

“Saori . . .”

Quickly, almost furiously, shaking her head, Saori cleared her throat, glowered at the floor as she struggled to keep the tears in check before they had a chance to fall.  She opened and closed her mouth a few times, but her voice wouldn’t come.

Aiko gently but firmly pushed on her shoulders until she sank down on the edge of the bed before kneeling before her, reaching up, gently pushing her hair out of her face.  “Tou-chan . . . He didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” Aiko said, but her explanation sounded so empty to Saori’s ears.  “He’s . . . He’s just concerned; that’s all . . .  I mean, he’s right in a sense.  Finding your mate—committing yourself to one person for the rest of your life . . . That is a big deal.  I’m not saying that Fai isn’t your mate.  I think he is.  Your father . . .”

“I’m not stupid, kaa-chan,” Saori murmured, her voice, thick, ragged, tight.  “You told me to listen to my youkai-voice, and . . . and I have.  It told me . . .”  She swallowed hard, tried to force down the lump that grew larger in her throat.  “It . . . told me . . .”

Aiko nodded slowly, her gentle smile, genuine, even if she did look a little sad.  Then she smoothed Saori’s hair back once more before cupping her cheek tenderly.  “Then that’s how it should be,” she said.  “Exactly how it should be.”

Saori opened her mouth to speak again, but to her horror, she choked out a sob instead.  Aiko uttered a crooning type sound as she rose on her knees, wrapping her daughter in a tight and warm hug.  “It’s okay, my girl . . .” she whispered, gently rubbing her back.  “Tou-chan . . .” She grimaced.  Saori didn’t see it.  “Tou-chan . . . He’s wrong this time . . .”

 

* * *

 

 

Frowning as he stared out over the vast expanse of the Demyanov estate, Seiji let out a deep breath, absently feeling the fingers of the wind as it lifted his bangs with tender and capricious fingers.

He really hadn’t meant to lose his temper with Demyanov-sama.  He really hadn’t.  Frustrated, certainly, after feeling as though everyone in his family had conspired against him, especially after he’d prided himself on being a fair and understanding father for so long, he hadn’t meant to lash out, hadn’t meant to make it sound as though Saori weren’t smart enough to figure things out on her own . . . and he sighed.

 _After she’d gone into her room, he’d started to go after her, only to be stopped when Rinji grabbed his arm, scowled at him.  “I don’t think there’s a thing you can say right now to fix her,” he said, narrowing his eyes on his father.  “Let kaa-san handle it._ ”

He’d almost lashed out at Rinji then, but the logic in his son’s words had stung him.

He’d retreated in here to gather his thoughts, to figure out just how he ought to go about, apologizing to Saori.  He made a face.  He’d thought that he’d outgrown that horrible habit of speaking first and thinking later long ago—long before he’d met and fallen for Aiko.

Funny how a daughter could twist one inside out.  After having spent the last nearly twenty-one years, worrying and fussing over the girl who had stolen his heart the moment he’d set eyes on her, it was a difficult thing, to let go, to take that step back, to realize that maybe . . . Maybe he wasn’t the hero he once was to her . . .

“Cooling your head, are you?”

Wincing inwardly at the sound of that voice, Seiji didn’t turn to look at her.  “If you’re here to tell me what a baka I was, I already know,” he told her.

Aiko sighed, shuffled across the balcony to stand beside him.  “Care to tell me what that was all about?” she asked.  She wasn’t happy with him, he could tell, but her tone told him plainly that she was at least willing to listen.

“I . . . I can’t help it,” he growled.  “I _look_ at that man, and I . . . I just want to . . . to . . . to _hurt_ him . . .”

“Because he’s unworthy of Saori, or because he’s taking away your little girl?” she asked softly.

“Both!” he snapped.  Then, he sighed.  “A little bit of both,” he went on, a little sadder, a little rawer.  “She’s not supposed to . . . But she . . .”  He sighed again.  “He . . . He really _is_ taking her away, isn’t he?”

“Is that what you think?”

He winced, his gaze clouding over as he struggled for answers.  “It’s what I _feel_ . . .”

“Hmm . . .” Letting out a deep breath, Aiko turned, leaned her elbows against the railing.  “Shall I tell you something?  Something I’ve never told you before?”

“Keeping secrets from me, Aiko?”

She smiled.  “A woman never tells all her secrets.  I think Saori will be much the same.”

“Okay.  What?”

She turned to face him, still leaning on the railing, reaching out with her free hand to lay it upon his arm.  “Even after I married you, I never stopped needing otou-san,” she said simply.  “Even now . . . As safe as I feel with you, there are still moments when I need him, and that’s okay, because it’s a totally different kind of need.  You see, you’re always going to be her tou-chan.  In a way, you’ll always be her anchor—the one she’ll always know is there to catch her, no matter what.  Her future might lie with Fai-sama, but when she looks back?  When she sees the foundation of love and support that you gave her?  Isn’t that enough?”

“No,” he growled.  Shaking his head, he grimaced.  “I don’t think it’ll ever be enough . . .”

“Except children are only given to us for a short, short time, Seiji . . . You know that.  You told me that, remember?  When Rinji told me that he was ready to move out?  When I wanted him to stay home just a little while longer?  You told me . . . We just borrow them.  We nurture them.  We teach them.  Then, we let them go, and we watch them fly . . .”

“I was wrong,” he grumbled.

Aiko laughed softly.  “You weren’t.  You were absolutely right.”

He grunted.  “She wasn’t supposed to find her mate till she was . . . fifty . . . three-hundred-fifty . . .”

She smiled.  “I seem to remember being twenty the first time I met a certain man . . . A man who could see right into my head—into my heart.  He’s a good man—a sweet man . . . He’s my mate, who is strong and wise and loving and kind . . . Who would never hurt his beloved daughter . . . I’d like to have him back now, if you please.”

He wasn’t quite ready to give up the fight, and he snorted indelicately.  “You lied to me.”

She blinked.  “I did?”

He nodded.  “You did.  Back when we were talking about having another child, you said if we had a daughter, that she’d be mine forever.”

She laughed softly, gently.  “I didn’t.  I said she’d be your _baby_ forever.  I don’t believe I ever said she wouldn’t grow up, though.”

His frown turned a little sad as he watched Saori.  She’d stepped out of the castle with Demyanov at her side, walking along the flagstone path that meandered through the gardens.  They stopped long enough for him to pick a flower for her.  A flash of memory, half-forgotten over time—flickered to life: a small girl with her deep gray hair up in piggy tails, carefully bending down, picking a flower, just for him . . .

“He’s going to fix what I broke, isn’t he?” Seiji murmured.

Aiko leaned against his arm as she watched the couple in question.  “He might try, but you know, she won’t be okay until you talk to her.”

Rubbing his forehead, Seiji winced.  “I guess . . . I guess I can let him have this moment.”

Aiko leaned up to kiss his cheek.  “You’re a good man, Seiji—and an excellent father, too.”

He didn’t respond to that as he watched his daughter, walking with her mate . . .

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m sorry I lost my temper with your father.”

Biting her lip, Saori dared a glance at Fai, only to find him, staring out into the distance with a thoughtful scowl on his features.  She sighed, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.  “He’s right, you know,” she forced herself to say.  “I . . . Well, I didn’t have boyfriends, so I . . .”

Fai sighed, grabbing her hand, tugging her off the path and under the shade of an aged tree, to sit on an old wooden bench that faced a beautiful flower garden, awash in a riot of summer colors.  “Let me ask you something, Saori.  Are you sad that you never had boyfriends because you wanted them or because you think that not having had boyfriends would somehow make me see you as someone inexperienced or . . . naïve?”

She stared at her hands, fiddling with the hem of her delicate pink sweater.  “I’m not very sophisticated or anything,” she ventured quietly.

He nodded.  “Do you know that people would bring their daughters here for me to meet?  All kinds of girls—sophisticated, worldly, smart women . . . And not one of them held my attention for more than a few minutes.  They were shined up and polished and knew just what to say, when to say it . . . I hated it.  They were too polished, too smooth, like . . . like river rocks . . . You . . . You challenge me.  If I say something you don’t agree with, you dig in your heels, and you don’t let go.  You’re all those things to me that those women would never have been—and I . . . I have never—would never—want you to be anything like them.  You’re far more beautiful to me because . . . because you don’t try to be what you aren’t . . .”

“R-Really?” she breathed, shooting him a wide-eyed glance.

“Really,” he told her.  Suddenly, though, he sighed.  “Are they going to keep sleeping in the antechamber to make sure you stay in your room, and I stay in mine?”

Biting her lip, she managed a wan little smile that was even more endearing to him with the hint of a blush that stained her cheeks.  “I don’t know . . . It’s kind of annoying, isn’t it?”

He snorted.  “Maybe we should just get married.  I mean, they’re here.  Your grandfather will be here tomorrow.  Your uncles should be back soon, too . . . Of course, if you want a big wedding . . .”

She blinked.  “But I don’t,” she blurted, shaking her head as she looked properly horrified by the idea of the large, ostentatious wedding ceremonies that were typical in her family.  “I mean, I guess weddings are nice enough, but I’ve always thought that they were more for the family than for the couple.  Does that sound dumb?”

He shook his head.  “I thought all women wanted big weddings.”

“Maybe those women you were talking about—the ones you said didn’t interest you.”  She was silent for a few minutes.  Fai stood up, wandered over to pick some more flowers for her.

The seeds had already been planted in her mind, though, and they were taking root.  To marry Fai that soon?  Sure, it was what she wanted, but she’d always thought that it would have to be a large affair, just to accommodate her family.  Still, the idea . . .

“Fai?”

“Hmm?” he intoned, a little distracted as he inspected all the flowers.

“Let’s do it.”

“Do what?”

Pressing a hand against her tummy to quell the sudden rush of butterflies that flipped her belly upside down in a very pleasant kind of way, she laughed.  “Get married.  Tomorrow.”

He stopped dead still, slowly turned to look at her, as though he were trying to see if she was being serious or not.  Her smile widened.  “You . . . You really want to?” He shook his head.  “I don’t know about tomorrow.  It’s normally a little more involved than that.  Maybe, though . . .”

She nodded.  “Is that a problem?”

He shrugged.  “Well, let me make a few phone calls . . . I don’t think it’ll be a problem, but it might not be tomorrow.  Usually, it takes a month or so to get everything done.  Maybe I can speed it up, but I’m pretty sure that tomorrow is probably out of the question.  But . . . What about your family?”

“Kaa-chan and tou-chan and nii-chan . . . and like you said, ojii-chan and obaa-chan will be here . . . But you know, I . . . I think I’d like for the children to be here, too . . .”

“The children?” he echoed thoughtfully.  “The orphans?”

She nodded.  “I . . . I want them to see that there are good things waiting for them, too . . .” she said.

He considered that for a moment, then nodded.  “All right,” he allowed.  “I tell you what.  I’ll call and see what I can do about getting the necessary papers filed, and you and your mother can plan it out, but . . .” He grimaced.  “Can you ask your mother if she could talk your father into sleeping in their own room?”

She laughed.  “I can try . . .”

He sighed, stepping over to hand her the flowers he’d picked before scooping her up and settling her on his lap on the bench.  “Try really _hard_ , Saori,” he breathed, letting his forehead drop against hers.  “I didn’t sleep for shit last night.”

She smiled, closing her eyes for a moment, resting her head on his chest as she brought the flowers up to breathe in deep.  “I didn’t, either,” she admitted.

He frowned as he pulled her closer, more securely, against his chest.  “I’m . . . I’m sorry that I lost my temper with your father . . .”

“Tou-chan should apologize to you,” she replied with a shrug.  “Those things he said . . .”

Fai made a face.  “He loves you,” he said simply.  “I was just . . . frustrated . . .”

“I know,” she said, leaning up to kiss him.  “Me, too . . .”

 

* * *

 

 

Saori slipped into the office as quietly as she could as Fai dropped the phone receiver back into the cradle and spared a moment to smile at her.  “Am I interrupting official business?” she asked, slipping across the room and behind him, gently rubbing his shoulders.

He half-sigh, half-groaned.  “Nope,” he said.  “The best I can do is a week,” he told her.  “That’s how long it takes for them to finish the paperwork on their end and issue the license.  I already talked to the officer, and he said he’d be happy to come out for the ceremony, so, we won’t have to drive there . . . Are you sure you want to skip the traditional church service?”

“If I wanted a traditional wedding, for me, that’d be Shinto,” she remarked.  “It’s the one by the official that matters, right?  So, I’m good with that.”

He shook his head.  “After we get the children squared away, if we can get things calmed down, do you want to go on a honeymoon?”

She leaned down, clasping her hands over his chest as she kissed his cheek.  “I just want to be with you,” she told him.

A curt knock on the door interrupted the moment, and Fai heaved a sigh.  “Come in,” he called as Saori stepped away from him.

Seiji stepped into the office, his darkened gaze meeting Fai’s.  He stood still for a moment, like he was gathering his thoughts.  Then he stepped forward, offered them both a low bow.  “I lost my temper earlier and said things that I did not mean,” he stated.  “My apologies, the both of you.”

“Tou-chan,” Saori murmured.  She started around the desk, only to stop abruptly, as though she couldn’t quite decide exactly what she was supposed to do.

Seiji straightened up, and this time, he bowed a second time, but only to Saori.  “You say that he is your mate . . . I accept this . . . and I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean what I said.  I was just . . .”

“You were worried about me,” she whispered.  “Tou-chan . . .”

He finally stood, and Saori hurried over to hug him tight.  He sighed, frowning down at his daughter for a long moment before slowly lifting his gaze—the same bluish-gray gaze as Saori’s—only to meet Fai’s.  “She is precious to me,” he said quietly.  “But you . . .”

Fai stood, nodding slowly, understanding what Seiji was trying to say.

“ _They love me because I’m their daughter, sister, cousin . . . granddaughter . . . but . . . but I don’t think I’ve ever known if they love_ me . . .”

She was wrong—so very wrong.  Those words she’d said to him on that night in Australia as the lights shone off the water, as the moonlight gathered in her eyes . . . Their gazes weren’t clouded—her father’s gaze wasn’t clouded—by the myth of a child at all . . .

“Senkuro-san,” he said, addressing her father in the politeness of the language that he understood, even if the rest of his statement was in English, “I ask that you allow me the privilege of marrying your daughter . . . please.”

Seiji looked entirely surprised when Fai bowed at the waist and held it as he waited for his answer.  Then he sighed.  “You . . . You can marry her,” he allowed in a sad kind of tone.  “But don’t ask me to give her away.  I . . . I can’t do that.”

Only then did Fai straighten up, and he smiled.  “I think I’ll take what I can get,” he said.

Saori choked out a sound that was caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob, hugging her father tight for a long moment.

Seiji held onto her, then let go, only to take her hand and lead her around the desk to Fai.  “If you’ll excuse me, I . . .” He cleared his throat, his eyes exceptionally bright.  “I think I hear Aiko calling me.”

Wiping her eyes, Saori leaned against Fai, her hand resting on his chest as they watched Seiji slip out of the room.

Fai glanced down at her, gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.  “You’re wrong, you know,” he said quietly in the silence that had fallen after her father’s departure.

She looked confused as she turned her head to stare at him.  “About what?”

He shrugged.  “You said to me once that you didn’t know if your family loved you or just the idea of you,” he reminded her.  “That man . . . He loves _you_.”

She gasped, her eyes widening, only to choke out a harsh sob as she buried her face against his chest.

Fai sighed, rubbing her back, kissing her forehead.  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

She nodded, but her tears kept coming, and Fai . . . He held her as a tender smile quirked his lips . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** — — —
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Amanda Gauger ——— minthegreen
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _Tomorrow_ …?


	51. 50: Haste

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_50_** ~~  
~ ** _Haste_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Fai sat back in his office chair, frowning at the documentation that he’d been given, both by Sesshoumaru and then, by Rinji.  Seiji stood near the windows, watching the women who had gathered outside for tea.  Sesshoumaru sat across the desk in one of the two chairs while Rinji occupied the other.

Sesshoumaru slowly shook his head.  “According to the banker I spoke to, all of the information was changed over for this account when I called and requested it done after your father’s request.  He has not yet called back to tell me what he’s found in his investigation—why they would not have questioned when the account went untouched for over sixteen years.  He’s also trying to find out what went wrong—why you were given no notification of this account at all.  That’s the funding that I set up at the onset for every jurisdiction.  It’s funded through an account that I set up long ago, fed by the office of the inu no taisho, not by me personally.  That is the account from which you should be paying for the official services.  I’ve looked over Rinji’s numbers, and I believe them to be accurate.  I’ll call to authorize the transfer back to your personal account since one that large is, by necessity, one that only I can order . . . My apologies, Faine.  It shouldn’t have escaped my attention for so long.”

“Uh, no,” Fai interrupted, his scowl darkening as he flipped through the pages of expenses that Rinji had so painstakingly compiled of the last couple days.  “It’s fine; really . . . In a couple years—”

“It’s not fine,” Sesshoumaru interrupted.  “This is also not open to debate.  Your services run well into the hundreds of millions of rubles each year, and you’ve done well to fund everything for over sixteen of those years.  This is not negotiable.  It was never your responsibility to pay out of pocket.  None of the other tai-youkai do that, and you will not, either.”

Letting out a deep breath, Fai dropped the paperwork on the desk.  He still didn’t like it, but arguing with the likes of Sesshoumaru Inutaisho?  Not a wise thing to do . . .

“My father never mentioned this account, not in the journal that he left me . . .” Fai admitted.  “All these years . . .”

Sesshoumaru nodded slowly, and for a moment, Fai had to wonder just what he was thinking.  A strange sense of foreboding in his expression, the Inu no Taisho seemed to be considering . . . something . . .

“Saori asked me to look into it,” Rinji said.  “She wanted to know if there were funds available to make some improvements at the orphanage for the children who are too old to go into placement.  There, is, if you were wondering.”

Fai shook his head, thinking about that ramshackle place in such a desolate area . . . “It’d be cheaper to build a new one,” he ventured.  “Everything would have to be gutted there, and even then, they’re trapped in the midst of nowhere . . .”

“That’s something you could do, if you wished,” Sesshoumaru said.  “But tell me . . . What’s this I hear about my granddaughter and . . . you . . .?”

Fai blinked.  “Oh, uh . . .”

Seiji chuckled.  “They’re getting married as soon as they get their paperwork back,” he remarked.  “I already gave my consent.”

Sesshoumaru nodded.  “I see.  Then all is as it should be.”

Fai let out a deep breath.  “Yes,” he replied.

The tap on the office door drew his attention, and he glanced up as Vasili stepped inside.  “Apologies for the intrusion, Your Grace, but Master Konstantin is here.”

“Uh, show him in,” Fai said, rising to his feet as Konstantin fairly swaggered into the room, looking inordinately proud of . . . Well, of something . . . “Kostya?”

The burly bear stopped short, his eyes widening as he slowly looked around.  Chances were good that he didn’t recognize Saori’s father, but he paled to an almost sickly white when his eyes lit upon the Inu no Taisho.  “My lord!” he blurted, yanking his hat off his head as he dropped almost comically fast into a low bow.

Sesshoumaru stared at Konstantin for a long moment as Fai shook his head.  “Kostya, this is Sesshoumaru Inutaisho.  My lord, this is Konstantin Korinovich, one of my regents.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Sesshoumaru replied.  He didn’t look entirely amused, but he didn’t look offended, either . . .

Konstantin reluctantly straightened up, gripping his hat in both hands, scrunching it in his meaty fists.  “I do not mean to intrude,” he said in very choppy English.  “I bring you, um . . . prisoner!  He knows of some of the rumors, Your Grace.”

Sesshoumaru arched a brow at the mention of a prison, and Fai stifled a sigh.  “Kostya—”

The bear straightened his back, smacked a balled-up fist hard against his chest.  “I . . . How you say?  Rough him up for you!  I make him squeal like pig on spit!”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Fai interrupted quickly as Rinji blinked and shook his head.  “I’d just . . . Just like to talk to him . . .”

“I squeeze his head like melon between my hands!  I bend his bones till bones groan and—”

“Kostya!” Fai hollered, holding up a hand to stop his rather overzealous regent.  Konstantin blinked quickly, his fist dropping instantly to squeeze the crap out of his hat once more.  “Where is he?”

“He is in car!” Konstantin replied.  Then he turned to eye Rinji, who shifted his gaze from side to side, his eyebrows lifting in silent question.  “I watch video of sumo-wrestling,” he said, directing his commentary at Fai’s future brother-in-law.  “I cannot be satisfied with outcome of manliest contest!  They have no rule for—what you say?  Pantsing!”

Rinji smashed his lips into a tight, thin line, but he had to clear his throat before he could speak as Sesshoumaru arched a very articulated eyebrow—as Seiji narrowed his gaze on his only son.  “Pantsing, Rin?” Seiji echoed.

“We were drunk,” Rinji replied before turning his attention back to Konstantin once more.  “It would have been funny as hell,” he maintained.  “I mean, they do disqualify you if you lose your mawashi, so . . .”

Konstantin looked rather confused.  “Hell is not funny, I think . . .”

“Tell me, this . . . man you’ve brought in.  What kind of questioning do you require?” Sesshoumaru asked, effectively changing the subject before Konstantin—and Rinji—got carried away.

Fai rubbed his forehead.  “There have been a lot of rumors spread lately,” he explained.  “Kostya nearly challenged me over them, so he’s dedicated himself to finding the source and . . . popping their heads like melons, apparently . . .”

“I do this for you!” Konstantin hollered.  Before Fai could stop him, he pivoted on his heel and stalked out of the office, likely to retrieve the man from his car—Fai hoped.

Fai sighed.  “He’s rather . . . excitable,” he remarked.  “Usually, he shows up with a jug of homemade vodka—”

“—Vodka distilled in the bowels of hell,” Rinji grumbled.

Fai nodded.  “It’s evil stuff . . .”

Yerik frowned as he stepped into the office, pointing back at the doorway as he slowly shook his head.  “Was that my imagination, or did I just . . . hear . . . Kostya?”

“Yep,” Fai said.  “I—”

“Tell His Grace who told you rumors, you pig!” Konstantin bellowed, shoving the man into the office.

The rather slight frog-youkai looked like he was about to faint, and Fai smothered a sigh.  “Kostya . . . I can take it from here.  Could you go tell Vasili to bring a tray of food?”

“That bear reminds me of someone . . .” Sesshoumaru mused, more to himself than to anyone in particular as Konstantin grunted and lumbered out of the office once again.

Seiji grunted.  “If that were the case, the poor bastard would be dead already,” he remarked, nodding his head at the frog-youkai, who blanched about five shades of white in as many seconds.

“True enough,” Sesshoumaru allowed.  Rising slowly from his chair, towering ridiculously over the very small youkai, the Inu no Taisho narrowed his eyes the slightest bit, which pretty well leeched any remaining color from his already sallow skin.

“Damn,” Yerik breathed with a wince.

“Yeah, you’re right.  That’s scary as hell,” Rinji muttered.

Fai crossed his arms over his chest.

“Tell me what you know about the rumors,” Sesshoumaru demanded quietly.  “Everything, or . . .”

The frog squeaked as the Inu no Taisho held up his hand, as his claws glowed a very noxious green.  “It was . . . It was a ferret-youkai!  A woman!” he blurted.  “She . . . She said that she heard that His Grace was going to dismiss all regents—that he was going to kill them!”  Tears filled the poor youkai’s eyes as he dropped to his knees, as he choked back a sob.  “Please . . .!  I only passed on what I heard because . . . Because Master Maxim is a good, fair man!”

“And you’re positive about this woman—this ferret-youkai?” Sesshoumaru demanded coldly—flatly—deceptively calmly.

The frog-youkai nodded fast.  “Absolutely, my lord!

Sesshoumaru stared at him for a long moment.  Then he nodded.  “Thank you,” he said at last, pulling a small wad of cash from his trouser pocket and dropping it before the frog.  “For your trouble.  Now, get out of here—and forget that we had this conversation.”

That was all he waited for.  Scooping up the money as he stumbled to his feet, he took off out of the office like the devil himself were fast upon his heels.

“Hey!” Konstantin hollered in the distance—from the sound of it, near the front doors.

“Damn it,” Yerik growled, taking off at a dead run after the frog.  “Kostya!  No!  We’re letting him go!”

“What?  But I—”

“He told us what he knows!” Yerik’s voice was coming closer.  “Uh . . . What the hell is _that?_ ”

They both strode into the office, and Fai could only sigh, this time, a little louder, when he spotted _it_ : the earthenware jug.  To his surprise, though, the bear ignored him entirely, striding over instead to stand before . . . Seiji?  “You . . . You are father of Saori, yes-no?”

Seiji didn’t look entirely sure, just what to say, but he nodded slowly.  “I am . . .”

Konstantin nodded and pivoted on his heel to face Rinji.  “And you . . . You are beloved brother of Saori, yes-no?”

Rinji nodded just as slowly as his father did.

Konstantin puffed up his chest as he strode over to stand beside Fai.  “We must have manly match!  Family of Saori versus brothers of Mother Russia!”

That’s . . . kind of what Fai figured was coming, but no . . . It was worse.  Konstantin thumped the thick jug onto the desk—everything shook—and yanked a few long strips of thick white cloth from his pockets—just what Yerik had questioned, he supposed.  “Proper sumo attire!” he bellowed.  “Mawashi!”

“Oh . . . my _God_ . . .” Yerik breathed, letting his face drop into his open hand.

Rinji slowly rose from his seat, looking entirely irritated, if the scowl on his face meant anything at all.  Without a word, though, he leaned in, snatched two of the cloths from Konstantin, handing one to Seiji without a word.  “Back garden.  Ten minutes,” he said as he strode out of the office.

Scowling at the strip that Konstantin handed Fai, he heaved a sigh and shook his head, positive now that everything that could possibly go wrong was going wrong.  Even so, he said nothing as Konstantin propelled him toward the door with a hand on his shoulder.

Yerik shook his head as Seiji stomped past them, his expression an odd mix of irritation, vexation, and sheer determination.  “I . . . I don’t think I want to see this,” he murmured, looking entirely horrified.  Somehow, he really couldn’t quite see this whole thing leading to anything good—or befitting of the Inu no Taisho’s visit . . .

Only after the others had slipped out of the office did Sesshoumaru reply.  “And what . . . is that?” he asked, arching an eyebrow at the jug that still sat on Fai’s desk.

Yerik sighed.  “Well, Kostya calls it vodka, but I’d say that’s taking a few liberties . . .”

“The concoction that Faine mentioned?”

“Yeah, that’s the one . . .”

“I don’t know.  It might be . . . interesting . . .”

Yerik could only stare as the Inu no Taisho grabbed the jug and glided out of the room, too.

 

* * *

 

 

“Now, you’re sure that you really want to get married next week without a big ceremony or anything?” Kagura asked again as the ladies sat around the large stone table on the patio.  It was a gorgeous day and not too muggy, which was nice, given that it had been fairly sticky the last few days.  It was probably a welcome change for Kagura and Aiko both since Tokyo tended to be like unto a sauna at this time of year back home . . .

“I am,” Saori replied with an impish little smile.  “I really don’t want a big, elaborate wedding where I’m too stressed out, worrying about all the small things instead of being able to focus on the idea that I’m marrying my . . . my mate . . .”

Kagura smiled, reaching over to pat her hand.  “If that’s what you want, Saori, then at least let us make it as special for you as we can . . . Which reminds me: I brought your Mokomoko-sama along.  I thought you might want it . . .”

“Oh,” she breathed, a slow smile spreading over her face.  “I . . . I forgot it, didn’t I?”

“Well, you did have other things on your mind,” Kagura allowed thoughtfully.  “Can we at least send out word?  I know that it’s short notice, but maybe some can make it.”

“Okay,” Saori said, casually sipping her tea.  “But please, tell them not to worry if they can’t.  I love them all, but . . . but the most important people to me are already here in Russia, so . . .”

“That’s fine, Saori.  It’s your day, after all, so it should be how you want it.  But tell me, does Russia have any interesting traditions we should look into?”

She giggled.  “Well, there are a few rather weird ones, like kidnapping the bride and stuff . . . Nothing that would really matter in the long run.  Besides, I don’t really want a big wedding if I can’t have a traditional Shinto ceremony . . .” She shrugged.  “We just want to be married . . . I think we’ve both had enough excitement for a while . . .”

Kagura smiled.  “All right.  Now . . . Tell me more about your mate, Saori.  I did meet him, of course, and I talked to him, but at the time, I dare say he wasn’t really sure that you were his mate, exactly . . .”

Biting her lip as she considered her grandmother’s question, she sat back, crossed her arms over her chest.  “Well, he’s . . .”  She frowned.  “Sometimes, he can be a little difficult to read, I guess.  He’s got a very good sense of humor, though, when he shows it . . .”

“Oh?  Sounds like otou-san,” Aiko remarked with a laugh.  “Maybe not as bad as him, but . . .”

“Your father isn’t so bad,” Kagura added.  “It’s simply hard to let one’s façade down when you’re in a position where so many count on you.”

Aiko stared at her mother for a long moment, arching an eyebrow in question.  “Otou-san takes himself _too_ seriously, if you ask me,” she said.

Saori sighed, shook her head.  “I don’t think it’s like that, exactly . . . I mean, not entirely, anyway . . . I think . . . I think he’s gotten used to being serious, strong . . . He gave up college to raise his brother when his parents died, and . . . and I don’t think he’s really had that much time, just to have fun.  I know he’s said he didn’t take vacations or go anywhere . . . The only times that he really took time off was when Yerik-kun asked him to, but I—”

The doors slid open, and Kagura choked, quickly setting down her tea as she reached for a napkin.  “Oh . . . Oh, my . . .”

Saori blinked, turned her head to see just what her grandmother was staring at, only to do a double take as Fai strode outside with Konstantin, but that wasn’t why her grandmother was struggling not to laugh, no . . .

“Why are you wearing fundoshi?” Saori blurted, face reddening almost instantly as she gawped at her mate—and his regent.

Fai snorted.  “It’s not fundoshi,” he told her in an almost haughty tone.  “It’s . . . It’s . . .”

“Mawashi,” Konstantin supplied.

Fai nodded once, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly.  “Thank you.  It’s _mawashi_ —official sumo wrestling attire.”

Snapping her mouth closed, Saori shook her head.  “And just what are you—?”

“All right.  Challenge accepted,” Rinji stated as he and Seiji stepped outside, followed in close order by Yerik and . . . Sesshoumaru . . . who, she realized with an inward groan, was carrying the damndable earthenware jug . . .

“Oh . . . no . . .” she groaned quietly, burying her face in her hands since her brother and father were also wearing mawashi . . . “Kaa-chan . . .”

Aiko giggled.  “You look very nice, Seiji,” she remarked.  “Very . . . impressive, Fai-sama . . .”

“Thank you . . . I think . . .” Fai gritted out.

“Otou-san . . .” Aiko began.

Sesshoumaru set the jug on the table.  “I think I shall sit this one out,” he remarked.

“Oh, I think I need to be dead damned drunk,” Yerik muttered, snatching the jug and yanking the cork before tipping it to his lips and downing a very healthy swallow.

“Me, too,” Fai muttered, taking the jug from Yerik and following his example.

“Korinovich vodka will put hair on chest!” Konstantin exclaimed, taking his turn before handing the jug to Rinji.

Saori might have been more impressed with the idea that her brother didn’t choke at all on the reeking liquor if she didn’t wish the floor would open and swallow her before this went any farther.  And then, Seiji, not to be outdone by the younger men, took the jug and swallowed.  Sheer determination kept him from grimacing and choking, she supposed, but he didn’t look all that impressed, either and she knew from experience that the less something showed on Seiji’s face, the worse it really was.

“We need official!  True official!” Konstantin went on.  Slowly, he turned to stare at Sesshoumaru, who arched one eyebrow when he intercepted the look.  “My lord, do you know rules of proper sumo wrestling?”

“I can officiate,” Yerik remarked.

Konstantin shook his head.  “You are brother of brothers of Mother Russia,” he insisted.  “My lord . . . He is friend to all youkai!  Best official!”

“That’s . . . kind of a stretch,” Seiji muttered.

Rinji nodded slowly.

Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes and headed off the patio, into the garden.  “Come,” he called.

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this kind of stuff,” Fai grumbled as he followed Konstantin over to the steps with Rinji and Seiji in tow.

“It is good, Your Grace!  What better way to welcome new family than by showing them who is man amongst men?”

The expression on Fai’s face might have been far more amusing if Saori were in a position to find anything amusing, at all.  As it was, she could only heave another sigh and hope—pray—that this whole thing didn’t end badly . . .

“I feel like something in the universe has gone very, very wrong,” Kagura remarked, sounding entirely too entertained for Saori’s liking.

“My mate’s still got it,” Aiko said proudly.  “Look at his tushie!  He has cheek dimples!”

Kagura chuckled.  “You know, Rinji’s tushie looks entirely like Sesshoumaru’s . . .”

Yerik sighed.  “I so didn’t want to hear that,” he growled, stomping away from the table in a huff.

Kagura’s lips twitched as she watched the young hunter’s hasty retreat.  “Was it something I said?”

Saori groaned.  “Tell me when it’s over,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

Aiko giggled.  “Don’t be so embarrassed, Saori!  Your mate’s got nothing—and I do mean nothing—to be ashamed of . . . Damn . . .”

“Okaa-chan!” she protested.

“Hmm . . . Looks like he was hiding quite a good deal underneath his clothes,” Kagura agreed.

“Obaa-chan!”

Kagura laughed as she stood up, cupping her hands around her mouth.  “Rinji!  Seiji-san!  Don’t you dare lose!”

Seiji, who was standing, waiting to face off against the bear-youkai, grunted, and even from the distance, they could see the ruddiness filter into his cheeks—and the rest of him, actually . . .

Kagura lifted the earthenware jug, cautiously sniffed it before making a face.  “This smells terrible,” she remarked.

“That’s why Fai didn’t come with me to pick kaa-chan and tou-chan from the airport,” she mumbled.

Staring at the jug for another moment, Kagura gave a little shrug and tipped it to her lips.  “Oh, that’s terrible,” she said, coughing delicately as she handed the jug to Aiko.  “I’ve had some terrible drinks before, but that is just awful . . .”

“Is it really that bad?” Aiko asked seconds before she, too, tipped the jug.  She came up, coughing and sputtering, grimacing terribly.  “How did they drink so much of it?” she complained.

“You know, the women are drinking that crap you call vodka,” Yerik pointed out to the men.  “I’m pretty sure none of them need hair on their chests.”

Konstantin looked duly befuddled.  Sesshoumaru turned his head, met his mate’s gaze, his eyes a little brighter than usual.

“Oh, look . . . I think Yerik-san managed to amuse your ojii-chan, Saori . . .”

Saori slowly shook her head since she wasn’t nearly as convinced as her grandmother on that score.

Seiji considered that, then shrugged.  “Well, your mother’s a pretty fun drunk,” he remarked.

Rinji grunted.  “You should probably keep that to yourself, tou-san,” he replied dryly.

Saori reached to intercept the jug, but Fai was faster, vaulting on the patio to whip it neatly out of her grasp.  “Oh, no . . . I’ve already seen how you are when you’re drunk off _decent_ vodka,” he muttered, stalking off the porch with the jug in hand.  Halfway down the steps, he, too, tipped the bottle once more.

Seiji chuckled.  “You know, you’re the result of a bottle of really cheap sake, Rin, so-o-o-o . . .”

Rinji sighed.

“How are you when you’re vodka-drunk?” Kagura asked, raising an eyebrow at her granddaughter.

“She kisses everyone she can lock lips on,” Fai called back, handing the jug to Rinji, who quickly downed more of it, probably to forget what his father had just said to him.

“Is that right?” Aiko questioned, shifting her eyes to stare at her daughter as her smile widened.

Saori sighed, grimacing as her father and Konstantin slapped their hands down and started to battle.  “I—Hmm . . . He was a very nice man—He was very nice to me!” she insisted, trying to fight back a furious blush.  It didn’t work.

Sesshoumaru called the match when Seiji managed to upend Konstantin, sending the big man, crashing down on his bottom.

“You should taste that stuff,” Seiji told his father-in-law.  “Two thousand yen says you can’t drink it with a straight face.”

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes on Seiji, but held out his hand for the jug.  Saori blinked, shaking her head as he tipped the jug for a long, long moment.  Four or five swallows that she could see—maybe more . . . Then he lowered it, his expression unchanged, and handed it off to Rinji.  “That tastes . . .”

“Like a whole lot of ass, crammed into that jug?” Rinji supplied helpfully.

Sesshoumaru considered that, then nodded very slowly.  “It sounds accurate.”

Shaking her head as Fai and Rinji stepped forward for the next match, Saori let out a deep breath.  Her entire family had apparently lost their minds, she thought.  It was almost as bad as when her uncles got together, and about the only thing worse would have been if the three of them—Toga, Ryomaru, and Kichiro—were here, too . . . Either that, or the men in general simply needed to be kept far away from each other.

“Manly battles, indeed,” she muttered.

Kagura and Aiko laughed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Mawashi** : official sumo wrestling ‘gear’_ …
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020 ——— AvinPhi ——— Goldeninugoddess
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _Men!_


	52. 51: Heartbeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~*~*~*~*~*~ ** _Lime Warning_** ~*~*~*~*~*~
> 
>  _There is no clean version of this chapter.  You’ve been warned_.

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_51_** ~~  
~ ** _Heartbeat_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“Sao-o-o-ori-i-i . . .”

Blinking as her head snapped up from the book she was reading, alone in the pretty bed in her solitary room, Saori narrowed her eyes.

“Sao-o-o-o-o-ori-i-i-i-i . . .”

It was coming from Fai’s room.  She hadn’t gone in there for a couple of reasons.  Firstly, even though her father hadn’t escorted her to her room, that didn’t mean he hadn’t sneaked in after the fact—he could easily be leaning against her door, waiting for her to try to slip into Fai’s room, if she had a mind to.  The other reason?  She wrinkled her nose.  The man was drunk—completely drunk . . . Sleeping with a drunk Fai?  She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to do that, either, given that the first time he’d gotten that plastered with Konstantin, he’d ended up, puking, too . . .

“ _Sao-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ori-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i . . .!_ ”

‘ _Well, at least, go find out what he wants before he yells down the entire castle . . ._ ’

Face shifting into a marked scowl, she snorted.  ‘ _Keh!  Like I care!  Every last one of those men is stink-faced!  Even ojii-chan!_ ’

“ _I am not drunk,” Sesshoumaru had said, managing to keep most of the slur out of his voice as he’d leaned heavily upon Kagura, while trying to negotiate the staircase.  “This Sesshoumaru does not b-be-become drunk_.”

That was what he’d said, anyway.  Her father?

“ _Fuck . . . I’m so damn . . . drunk . . . I might hurl . . . Aiko-cha-a-a-an . . .”  And Aiko had sighed, but smiled as she and Vasili dropped Seiji across their bed_ . . .

Rinji and Yerik and Konstantin were just as bad.  Saori had to have Vasili help her haul Fai off of the grass where he lay, spread eagle on the ground, staring up at the stars and hollering at Saori a few— _hundred_ —times . . .

‘ _Look at the positive side, then . . . Tou-chan was entirely too drunk to be lying in wait on the other side of your door.  If he had tried, you’d definitely know it since there’s no way he’d have managed to get into the antechamber without making a bunch of noise . . ._ ’

“ _Sa-a-a-a-ao-o-o-o-or-r-r-r-ri-i-i-i-i-i-i . . .!_ ”

Erupting in a menacing growl that was entirely lost in the silence of her room, she tossed the duvet aside and stumbled to her feet, slamming open the bedroom door, closing the distance between her room and his, only to slam that one open, too.  Fai didn’t even flinch.  It just figured.

Stopping abruptly, she crossed her arms over her chest, arching an eyebrow at the man who had somehow managed to yank off the mawashi and was sprawled out in the center of his bed quite naked—on top of her Mokomoko-sama . . . “Where did you get that?” she demanded, refusing to look past his face as she stomped over to the bed.

He rolled his head to the side, but it took him a moment to focus his eyes on her.  “Oh, Saori . . .” he mumbled.  “Can you open the window for me?”

Opening her mouth, only to snap it closed once more, she narrowed her eyes even more as she frowned at him.  “Did you call me in here just to open the window?” she finally asked.

He grunted.  “Ha!  No!”

She wasn’t sure she was buying.  “Then, why did you?”

“That mawashi is damned uncomfortable,” he told her, waving an arm, slurring his words.  “Went right up my ass a little deeper than it needed to be, if you ask me . . .”

Rolling her eyes, letting out a deep breath, she stomped over to the window and threw it open as far as it would go, but when she turned around again, her eyes flared wide.  Standing at what amounted to be the foot of the bed, she was staring directly at parts of Fai’s body that she’d been trying to avoid.  That he had an erection was enough to make her swallow hard, made her mouth go dry as a brigade of nerves kicked in, as she leaned against the window frame to support her shaking legs.  He was also circumcised, which, as much as she was loathe to admit it, was absolutely . . .

‘ _Fascinating . . ._ ’

She snorted inwardly, her cheeks blossoming in embarrassed color.  ‘ _You’re not helping._ ’

‘ _Yeah, but . . . we’ve never seen that before—not in person, right?  Shouldn’t we . . .?  I mean, don’t we_ owe _it to ourselves to get a better look?  In the interest of . . . of_ science _. . ._ biology . . .’

‘ _No!  What—? No!_ ’

He groaned softly, reaching over, dragging the edge of her Mokomoko-sama over himself—and then, he slowly started to rub it against his crotch.  “Damn,” he rasped out, making no bones about what, exactly, he was doing.  “Smells like . . . you . . .”

“S-Stop that!” she hissed, forcing herself to look away, her cheeks blossoming like roses in June.

“Hmm . . . I don’t want to,” he mumbled just before he shivered, groaned again.

“You—But that’s my— _Stop it!_ ” she repeated, stubbornly refusing to glance back at him again.  It was like a train wreck: she knew she shouldn’t be looking, and yet, she just couldn’t quite help herself, either . . .

All kinds of scents were spinning around her, evolving, thickening, changing so quickly that it left her mind reeling.  “C’mere, S’ri,” he whispered, his voice too husky, too much of a low rumble, to credit.

The sound of it was enough to bring on gooseflesh, erupting all over her body, and she quickly rubbed her arms to dispel it.  It didn’t really work, and it didn’t do a thing to quell the unmitigated churning in her belly—a slow, throbbing churn that was wholly provocative, entirely delicious.  “You’d better . . . better not,” she forced herself to say.

His reply was another loud moan—this one, much longer, lower, more drawn out than before.

Common sense told her that she really needed to get out of there.  Common sense told her that if she went over to him now, there was a good chance that waiting a week for a wedding would be kind of a moot point.  Too bad common sense held very little sway in her mind at the moment . . . Fai . . . Fai held her, spellbound . . .

Biting her lip, she didn’t move, but she did shift her gaze to the side, watching him out of the corner of her eyes.

He was still rubbing himself—rubbing her Mokomoko-sama over his body, stroking himself through the plush and soft fur that exactly matched her hair.  Something about it was way more erotic than she might have thought otherwise.  Somehow, the idea of him, very obviously enjoying something as simple as her fur . . . She shivered.

Body taut, almost straining, every muscle, so artfully delineated in the soft, but dim light of the one lamp on the bedside table, the shadows were fascinating to her—alive and breathing and compelling . . . The careful stretch of skin, softly glowing a tawny hue . . . The rises and falls, the ridges and hollows . . . The way those cordoned muscles tapered around his waist, converged below his belly button, disappeared under the thickness of the chestnut hair that mingled with the fur of her Mokomoko-sama and disappeared below it . . .

She didn’t hear the catching roughness of her own breathing, the stunted cadence as she drew in the side of her bottom lip, gnawing on it slowly as she watch him, spellbound.  Hand closed around a fistful of her Mokomoko-sama, he pumped himself leisurely, over and over again, his gasps, his groans, echoing so loudly in her ears . . .

There was something beautiful in the efficacy of his movements, in the strained and surging muscles of his arms, his bent leg.  Arching his head back, eyes slipping closed, he rasped out those stunted breaths, a string of low and savage growls.

His need pulsed around her, the pulse of his youki a near-palpable thing.  It drew on her, begged her closer, even as she stubbornly held her ground.  Almost as though she feared what would happen if she ventured closer, she heard her own shallow breathing, felt her quickening heartbeat.  Her knees felt weak, and the ache deep inside her hurt in a way that she’d never felt before . . .

With a loud growl, he rolled to the side, somehow managing to stumble off of the bed and to his feet with more dexterity than he really should have had.  But his eyes were glowing dangerously, backlit with a strange sense of fire as he turned toward her, stalked over to her, the fierceness of his near-glare holding her in his thrall.

He said nothing when he reached her, dragging her roughly against his body.  There was no finesse in his touch, no gentle sense of wonder.  The contact of his body, the surge of his mouth as he kissed her hard, sent an electric kind of jolt straight through her, straight to the depths of her, as that slow ache exploded—a spontaneous combustion.

“I smell you, Saori,” he growled between kisses.  His rumble of his words, the almost accusatory tone in his voice, undid her as she whimpered, as she melted against him, as she gave up everything that was her in that instant—in that moment—in the fire and the burn and the painful need.  “God, I . . . I want you . . .”

She gasped softly, the sound of it swallowed by his consuming mouth on hers as he scooped her up into his arms, as he strode back over to the bed.  He let her feet fall back to the floor, back to the warmth and softness of the pile under her toes.  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard the rip, the tear, of fabric.  She felt a slight coolness—welcome against her burning flesh.  It made no sense to her, not with his mouth doing things to hers that she couldn’t process.  The hungry draw as he sucked her tongue, as he flicked it, as he explored every last recess of her in a kiss meant to plunder her senses, to decimate her resistance.  Powerless to do anything but cling to him, she shivered, her hands digging deep into his hair, holding his head, as though she were scared to let him go.

His hands on her skin drew a sharp little cry from her as her head fell back, as she arched toward him, toward the hand that closed over her breast.  The drag of his claws against the demanding pressure . . . Nipples hardening in response as he pushed her back, lowered her onto the bed, crawled over her, the head of his penis, trailing a burning path up her leg, her thigh . . . Everywhere he touched transferred to a million thunderous explosions, and every last one of them shot straight to the central burn between her legs.  With every passing second, every inundation to her senses, she gasped, moaned, felt herself fall a little deeper, a little harder, into that vale between want and need, between pleasure and pain . . .

The stunning heat of his mouth as it closed over her nipple brought her up, only to be pushed back down again.  He drew her deep, impossibly deep, as she squeaked out a little whine, a whimper, a demand for what she knew he held just out of her grasp.  His answer was a hard bark—a curt sound—that she understood, even as she rolled her hips, her body seeking out his in a purely instinctive way.

She gasped loudly as the head of his cock pressed against her, but was held back by the barrier of her panties.  Still, she rocked her hips against him, and he groaned—a ragged, almost broken sound—his hips meeting hers with a shiver, a shudder, a twitching jerk.

Her breast sprang free when he released the suction, only to kiss his way down the vale between, down her belly, his tongue swirling into her belly button.  She dug her hands deep into the softness of her Mokomoko-sama as she felt a strange tug on the crotch of her panties.  Before she could question it, though, the back of his knuckles rubbed against her, slipping easily into the hidden part of her, brushing so sinfully against the tiniest bit of her.  Hips arching off the bed, meeting that touch with a barely contained ferocity, Saori cried out as that thin line between sanity and oblivion was eradicated, as the brilliant and blinding flash of pleasure broke free in wave after wave of liquid heat, of secrets and truths that were all laid bare . . .

That pleasure lingered, spiraling higher and longer.  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt the tug of her waistband, digging in for a split second before it released.  Even as the throbbing deep within her started to wane, she choked, gasped, uttered a sound caught somewhere between a cry and a scream.  Burying his tongue so deep inside her, lifting her hips with his arms under her thighs, he groan-growled, the reverberations ricocheting through her as that lust, that consuming sense of emptiness grew once more at a shocking and enthralling speed.

Tongue darting into her, only to lap at her, the heat of his breath shifting into a thickening caress, he was relentless, maddeningly thorough, as though he had to seek out every last place where she could hide.  The shocking invasion raged right through her, sending reason scattering before she could try to grasp anything at all.

He pulled a hand free, dragging his tongue up to that tiny bud of flesh, drawing it deep between his lips as she panted, whined, tried to beg him with words she could not form.  Rolling it between his lips, he slid a finger deep into her, reaching so much deeper than he had before as another earthquake of shocking proportions shot through her once again.

And he didn’t stop.  As though he refused to allow her even a moment of respite, he flicked the tip of his tongue over that swollen bud, his finger pistoning in and out of her as her body reacted on its own, meeting his thrusts with a goading need, a primal desire.  She felt the bed shift slightly as he repositioned himself, as he stretched out beside her, his feet near her head.  Pushing her leg up, out of the way, hand braced against the back of her knee that he held forward, he let his finger slip out of her, only to be replaced by his tongue once more in a steady yet demanding stroke, a lick, a flick deep within her.

His penis brushed against her hand, still holding onto her Mokomoko-sama.  She let go, her hand seeking him out, wrapping around the twitching thickness of him, unleashing a loud and harsh growl deep in her.  She rolled toward him, almost by instinct, wrapping both her hands around him, slowly stroking him up and down.  He caught her leg, held up her knee, groaning softly yet again as something hot and viscous seeped over her fingers.

She felt her body stiffen as he goaded her toward that elusive abyss once more, her hands, tightening around him, and his body took over, thrusting against her grip.  She could feel the tremors in his body—tremors that matched the ones spiraling through her.

Delving his fingers into her once more, he rasped out a growl as licked her in hard, long strokes.  She opened her eyes, blinked as she stared at him, watching in a strange sort of fascination as she pumped him with her hands.  As though every inhibition she’d ever had had been summarily stripped away, she didn’t think about it, didn’t wonder, didn’t hesitate as she leaned in, as she opened her mouth, as she drew him between her lips, tongue wrapping around him as he gasped, grunted, stiffened against her for only a moment.

“Damn it . . .” he growled, unable to stop himself as he thrust into her, as a hot gush of something bitter, almost creamy, filled every corner of her mouth.  She swallowed fast, swallowed hard, as wave after wave of his pleasure shot out of him, hitting the roof of her mouth, dripping down her throat . . .

He collapsed beside her, his breathing harsh and ragged, as though he needed a moment just to gather his wits once more.  Saori laughed rather unsteadily, scooting around so that she could lay down beside him, reaching out to brush his hair out of his face.

He was still struggling to breathe, his cheeks flushed, his eyes closed.  Without opening them, he pulled her in, kissed her deep—a soft and gentle kiss that hung in the air, that lingered against her skin more closely than a caress.

“I love you,” he murmured, pulling her close against his chest, wrapping his arms around her, his voice touched with a slight slur, but whether it was caused by the homemade vodka or by the sleepiness that was fast catching up with her, too, she didn’t know.

She sighed happily, closing her eyes as she tucked her head under his chin, right over his heart that was still beating in a crazy-erratic cadence.  “My mate,” she whispered.

She heard him chuckle as she drifted off to sleep, and just as the comforting lethargy claimed her completely, she thought that she heard him snore, too . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Fai closed his eyes as he stood under the shower tap, head bent back as he let the steaming water trail down his body, soothing the ragged edges of the slight ache that hammered in his head.  It wasn’t as bad as some of the other hangovers he’d had.  Either he was getting used to the devil’s drink that Konstantin called vodka . . . or . . .

Breaking into a small smile—an almost predatory sort of smile—as memories of last night flickered to life in his head, Fai chuckled—and then sighed.  She was still in bed, sleeping like a baby, and he hadn’t had the heart to wake her, despite the ridiculous lust that assailed him about the minute he opened his eyes, probably because the entire room smelled like sex . . .

It didn’t really help, either, that he’d stood beside the bed, staring at her until he had every last inch of her committed to memory.  Standing there, grasping the tall bedpost in one hand, his penis in the other one, idly stroking himself as he’d let his gaze roam up and down her gorgeous body?

‘ _Well, that was dumb_ ,’ his youkai-voice pointed out rather dryly as Fai let his head fall forward, opening his eyes, frowning at the brand-new erection that had come right back at the simple thought of Saori . . . of her body . . . of the way she tasted on his tongue . . .

On the one hand, he really should have tried a little harder to hold off until their wedding night.  On the other?  Nope, he really wasn’t nearly as sorry as he probably should have been, either.

What he’d really like to do would be to march back in there, claim his mate, and spend the rest of the day, claiming her over and over again.  Too bad that certain houseguests might not be too keen on that idea, and even if they were all right with it, he couldn’t help but to think that, really, it was less than a week to wait, and didn’t they say that practicing patience built character?

‘ _Sure . . . If it doesn’t kill you . . ._ ’

He made a face.  Yeah, there was that, too, he supposed . . .

“Morning,” Saori mumbled as she shuffled into the bathroom.  He glanced over at her, only to do a double-take.  She hadn’t bothered to grab a robe—he wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing—and she still seemed to be a little groggy.  She smiled a little absently, though, dragging a hand through her sex-hair—and if that wasn’t hot as hell, the Fai didn’t know what would be.  Ignoring the water flowing from the open shower, she stumbled right into his arms, cuddling against his chest.

If she realized yet or not that she was still entirely naked, Fai didn’t know—didn’t care, either.  Suddenly, however, she giggled.  “You’re poking me, Fai.”

He snorted.  “That is not my fault,” he told her.  “If you want it to go away, you need to stop rubbing against it.”

Her response was another soft giggle, and a very provocative and unmistakable press of her hips against him.  He shivered and groaned.  “Did I do that?” she asked quietly, a level of wonder in her tone that made him lean back to look down at her.

“Do what?”

She bit her lip, her cheeks pinking slightly as she shook her head and peered up at him through the thick, sooty fringe of her lashes.  “Well, you . . . You shuddered,” she said quietly.

He let out a deep breath.  “Entirely your fault . . . Did you think it wasn’t?” he countered just as softly.

She giggled again, burying her face against his chest.  “I _hope_ so,” she replied.

Shaking his head despite the smile on his face, Fai chuckled.  “Yes, Saori . . . You did—You do—more often than you know.”

She leaned back and to the side to snag a washcloth off the small, hanging rack affixed to the marble tile wall as he stifled a low groan since she’d also managed to thrust her breast right up there for his delectation in the process.

“Here.  Let me wash your back,” she offered, slithering out of his grasp and ducking around him.

As much as he didn’t really want to, he stood still, allowed her to lather up the cloth and scrub his back in a wholly invigorating kind of way.  No sooner did she finish than she handed him the cloth.  “Will you wash me?” she asked quite happily.

And he had no choice but to do that, too—not that he minded too much.  Running his hands over her body, even with the barrier of the wash cloth separating her skin from his fingers, was still infinitely more pleasurable than many other things he could be doing instead . . .

“I was thinking,” she began in a strangely absent kind of way, holding onto her hair over her shoulder as he took his time, lathering her back, from top to bottom.

“Hmm?”

“Well, umm . . . What . . . What we did last night . . .”

“You’re ready for another go at that?”

She rolled her eyes, cheeks pinking a little more as she craned her neck to pin him with an amused yet chagrined sort of look.  “Be serious!” she chided.

He laughed.  “I was being serious.”

She shook her head as he dropped the washcloth into her free hand and pulled her hair out of her grasp and reached for the bottle of shampoo.  “Baka . . . Anyway, you know, when oji-chan and oba-chan were trying to have Gunnar-san, but they only had daughters to begin with . . .”

“Uh huh?” he intoned, only listening with about half his brain as he slowly, methodically, worked the shampoo in a lather, massaging her scalp.

“Well, it . . . It occurred me . . . What if they would have had him sooner, but they were . . . doing what we did . . . and . . . well . . . I mean . . .”

“Spit it out, Saori,” he prompted.

She sighed.  “What if she . . . What if she _swallowed_ the future tai-youkai?” she blurted.

Fai stopped dead still.  It took a moment for him to process just what she’d said, and when he finally did, he half-snorted, half-guffawed.  And he kept laughing.  He laughed so hard that he stumbled back, crashing against the wall beneath the shower head.

Snorting loudly—she didn’t think it was nearly as funny as he seemed to—she narrowed her eyes on him.  He didn’t get the message since he didn’t see it.  Too busy, laughing helplessly, he had his eyes squeezed closed, tears forced out of him, running down his cheeks, but blending with the water cascading from the soaker showerhead.

“All right,” she growled, slapping her hands against his arm and shoulder and giving him a good shove out from under the shower and into the main floor of the bathroom.  “You’re clean, Your Grace.  Now, go away!”

“I’m never . . . going to be able . . . to look . . . at him . . . ever!” Fai gasped out, wiping his eyes as he grabbed a towel—and kept laughing.  “ _Ever_ , ever!”  Then he choked.  “Glad your mother didn’t swallow you this time, huh, Gunnar?”

“You’re such a baka!” she hollered, throwing the washcloth, hitting him in the face.  It fell on the floor with a squelchy plop.

His reply was more obnoxious laughter.  “Damn!  I have to sit in my office, looking at your uncle, and you go and say something like that to me?  If I can’t look at him without laughing, I’m going to blame it on you!”

“I don’t think I like you anymore, Fai-sama,” she grumbled.

Fai didn’t stop chuckling, but he held up his hands.  “I’m sorry,” he replied, clearing his throat and at least putting forth an effort to control his amusement.  “You’re right.  Absolutely real question.  Got it.”  He coughed—a few times.  “But, in the interest of trying to give you a serious answer, I’d have to say that when . . . your mate . . . is . . . doing _that_ , the last thing on your mind, really, is, uh, making a baby, so . . .”

She paused in the rinsing of her hair long enough to shoot him a ‘We-Are-Not-Amused’ glance before resuming her efforts once more.  “Go away, Fai-sama,” she grumbled.  “And . . . And you get to wash my Mokomoko-sama!”

Fai draped the towel around his hips and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Oh, hmm, I’m not washing that,” he told her with a shake of his head.  “I worked hard last night to make it smell . . . like us.”

She heaved a sigh to let him know just how irritated she still was with him, but she apparently decided that he’d earned the silent treatment, and Fai chuckled as he headed out of the bathroom.

Sometimes, he had no idea, just where she got some of her stranger notions, but this one?

‘ _Swallowing the future tai-youkai? Can that even happen?_ ’ his youkai-voice mused.

Fai shook his head.  Okay, so he didn’t really know the logistics of that, but the idea that she’d thought of that?

‘ _At least our life together is never, ever going to be boring . . ._ ’

He broke into another round of chuckles as he tugged a pair of pants out of his closet and yanked them on.

No, he supposed that, ‘boring’ was not something he’d ever have to worry about, not with a woman like her . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Note on status in Facebook group… please read it_!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
>  _** xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
>  _** Okmeamithinknow ——— Toyasgurl ——— Amanda Gauger ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
>  _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18 ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  … _It was a legitimate question_ …


	53. 52: Threats

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_52_** ~~  
~ ** _Threats_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Stepping out onto the enclosed patio behind the dining room, Fai stopped short when he spotted Rinji, hunched over the table, nursing a very large mug of very black coffee.  “Morning,” he said, grabbing a mug from the sideboard and pouring a cup for himself before joining Rinji at the table.  “You look like hell.”

Rinji snorted, rubbing a bloodshot eye with his knuckle.  “Yeah, well, that generally happens when one gets no sleep,” he growled.

“You didn’t get any sleep?” Fai echoed, arching an eyebrow as he tipped his mug to his lips.

The silver-haired youkai snorted indelicately.  “You have a lot of guest rooms in this damn mausoleum you call a castle,” Rinji mumbled, stumbling to his feet and dumping more coffee into his mug.  “Tell me why we’re all sandwiched together down that hall of hell?”

Fai blinked.  “Come again?”

Flopping back into his chair once more, Rinji glared at him.  “You also might want to know that your walls are as thin as shoji screens.”

Shaking his head, Fai frowned.  “I don’t think I—"

Rinji grunted.  “My room is between my parents and my grandparents.  Otou-san was drunk.  Ojii-san was drunk, even if he wants to argue it and say that he wasn’t.  Do you know what I figured out last night?”

Fai made a face.  “I think maybe I don’t . . .”

Rinji drained half of his cup in one long swallow before narrowing his eyes in an entirely Sesshoumaru-ish kind of expression of absolute disdain.  “They _apparently_ get horny when they’re drunk, Fai-sama.  That’s what happens.  So, all last night, all I hear is obaa-san on one side, apparently having a great damn time, and _kaa-san_ on the other side because both, quite obviously, enjoyed themselves . . . often and a lot.”

“Oh . . .”

Rinji sighed.  “Fai-sama . . .”

“Yes . . .?”

“. . . I want a new room—on a different floor . . . and not directly over either of those rooms, thanks.”

Fai cleared his throat.  “I, uh . . . I’m pretty sure that it can be arranged . . .”

Rinji heaved a longsuffering sigh and set the empty mug on the table with a hefty, ‘thud’.  “Fai-sama, I heard things in the night that no son or grandson should ever have to hear, no matter how old he is—not ever.”

Fai chuckled.  “You know, I remember once . . . I got a good mark on a school paper, and when I got home, I wanted to show my mother.  Vasili told me that she was in the office, talking to my father, but then, he said that I shouldn’t disturb them.  I decided that Vasili was out of line, so I took off, down the hallway, burst into the office, only to find them . . .” He grimaced.  “I don’t want to talk about what they were doing.  Nothing really out of the ordinary, I suppose, but . . .”

Rinji nodded slowly.  “But they’re your parents, and no child _ever_ needs to see that . . .”

Fai sighed.  “It’s true.”

“Good morning, nii-chan!” Saori said as she breezed into the room with a brilliant smile that turned into the vaguest hint of a blush when she met Fai’s amused gaze.  Settling into a chair on Rinji’s other side, she grabbed an orange out of the fruit bowl in the center of the table and dug in her claws.  “You don’t look like you slept very well . . .”

Fai shook his head as Rinji heaved a sigh.  “I didn’t,” he replied in a very clipped tone.  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She looked duly befuddled, but she didn’t press the subject as she carefully peeled the skin off the orange.  “Are you going to be okay to drive to the airport?” she asked instead.

Rinji sighed.  “I forgot about that,” he admitted.  “Yeah, I’ll be all right.”  He reached over, snagging half of Saori’s orange and stuffing it into his mouth in one very large bite.

“Oi!” she protested, frowning at what was left of her fruit.

Rinji stood up, stretching his arms up over his head, leaning slightly from side to side as he yawned wide.  “Can I borrow your car, Your Grace?” he asked, holding out his hand as Fai slowly rolled his eyes.  He was supposed to go pick up Toga

“Ask Vasili,” he replied.

Rinji nodded, sparing a moment to snatch the rest of the orange out of Saori’s hand before ruffling her hair in a bratty brother kind of way as he ignored her protest and sauntered back inside.

She wrinkled her nose and reached for another orange.  “Baka . . .”

Fai cleared his throat.  “I take it you’re not mad at me anymore?”

She shifted her gaze to the side, but didn’t move her head.  “I . . . I guess not,” she allowed rather primly.

He chuckled as he watched her strip away the orange peel for a second time.  Nimble fingers, glistening with juice that had escaped despite her efforts to be careful, the scent of oranges that filled his nostrils . . . Biting her bottom lip as she split the orange open, she suddenly smiled, inordinately pleased with herself . . . And he sighed when she popped a segment of the fruit into her mouth and happily munched away.

She intercepted his look and blinked.  “Are you all right?” she asked.

He nodded slowly.  “Yep . . . Just trying to decide if anyone would notice if we went back upstairs and locked a few doors . . .”

She blushed, but smiled.  “They might,” she told him.

The chime of his phone interrupted him, and he dug it out of his pocket.  “Evgeni’s stopping by today,” he informed her.  “Good, good . . . Saves me the trouble of calling him to invite him to the wedding . . .”

He didn’t notice right away, the way her back stiffened, didn’t catch the way her smile faltered, then faded completely.  Keying in a text to let Evgeni know that he was looking forward to his visit, by the time he glanced up, Saori had managed to hide her initial reaction well enough, and he stood up.  “I’m going to go get a few things taken care of before he gets here,” he said, stepping over to kiss her on the forehead.  “When you see Vasili, remind him that we need a room prepared for you uncle—and tell him to see that your brother’s moved, as well.”

“Nii-chan?” Saori echoed, shaking her head in confusion.  “Why?”

Fai chuckled.  “No particular reason, really . . . He simply doesn’t seem to like being housed between your grandparents and parents, is all,” he replied as he strode out of the room.

 

* * *

 

 

‘ _You know, you’re being a coward._ ’

Saori didn’t miss a beat as she sketched the layout of the garden on a sheet of paper.  It wasn’t a professional looking diagram in the least, but that wasn’t the point.  ‘ _Don’t know what you’re talking about,_ ’ she thought, rather proud of the steadiness of her voice, even if it was in the confines of her own head.

‘ _Except what you’re doing is entirely pointless,_ ’ her youkai-voice pointed out.  ‘ _The families can pick out their own spots, if they wish to spend some time alone with the children._ ’

She wasn’t sure she agreed with that.  After all, if she told them that there were these little areas—these nooks and crannies—where they could settle down, relax, and spend some time with the children, it would be smoother, especially if they felt as though they weren’t being watched the whole time.  That was the goal, wasn’t it?  To help expedite the process, so to speak?

At least, that’s what she told herself that she was doing.  She certainly wasn’t hiding out here, trying to avoid Evgeni, who had arrived about an hour ago . . .

When Fai had mentioned that he was stopping by, she’d almost told him that she didn’t like him, that he’d said things to her that really weren’t all right.  Too bad the contentment on his face had stopped her.  As much as she didn’t trust him, didn’t like him, Fai did, and she _did_ trust Fai . . .

Still . . .

“Here you are . . . What are you doing?”

Glancing up at her brother, using a hand to shield the sun out of her eyes, Saori smiled, taking the hand he held out to help her to her feet.  “I was trying to plan out the different areas where families can sit and get to know the children,” she said.

Rinji raised an eyebrow at her.  “Is that right?  So, you’re not out here hiding . . .”

She wrinkled her nose, but carefully avoided his keen gaze.  “Hiding? Why would I be hiding?”

He shook his head.  “I don’t know.  You tell me.”

She opened her mouth to protest her innocence, but she sighed when he cocked an eyebrow at her.  Curse her luck for bringing the one relative that she’d never been able to fool to find her, anyway . . . “I don’t like him,” she whispered, crossing her arms over her chest, cradling the notebook to against her body.  “Feodosiv-san . . .”

“Fai’s adviser?  Why not?”

Letting out a deep breath, she quickly shook her head.  If she told Rinji, he’d be angry—she didn’t even try to delude herself into thinking otherwise.  She knew it—and she knew that he’d either confront Evgeni or talk to Fai, and neither of those options was really what she wanted.  “Just a feeling,” she muttered, praying that Rinji would let it drop.

“Just a feeling?” he repeated.  “What does that mean?  What kind of feeling?”

She frowned.  “He’s just . . . not a very nice person,” she replied.

Too bad Rinji was entirely too smart to accept what she was saying at face value and just let it go . . . “Did he say something to you?”

She bit her lip, offered him what she hoped was a dismissive little shrug.  “He . . . He was just . . . Just trying to protect Fai . . .”

“Keh!” Rinji snorted.  “Protecting him from his mate?  Utter nonsense, Saori-chan . . . Tell me what he said to you.”

“No,” she insisted, scowling at her beloved brother.  “No . . . because you’ll confront him or tell Fai, and you can’t do either—you _can’t_.”

He snorted again.  “Why the hell not?”

Rubbing her forehead with slightly trembling fingers as the vivid memory of that awful confrontation shot to the fore, she shook her head.  “Because . . . He’s like a . . . a surrogate father to him,” she said.  “I . . . I can’t take that away from him.  It’s not fair; not when he’s already lost so much . . .”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he leveled a no-nonsense look at her.  “You tell me what happened, or I march in there right now and demand answers from him, Fai’s sensibilities be damned.”

She gasped, face scrunching up in a scowl of her own.  “Nii-chan!  You can’t do that!”

“Oh?  Watch me.”

He started to spin around on his heel, but she caught his arm, tugged him back.  Then, she sighed.  “He accused me of only being after Fai’s wealth—only to remind me that there isn’t any—which I don’t care about, anyway,” she admitted quietly.  “He . . . He said I was . . . was using Fai . . . for his power or . . . or something, but . . .”

“Is that right?”

“Nii-chan!” she growled, catching Rinji when he tried to take off again.  “No!  It’s fine!  He . . . Like I said, he was just protecting Fai . . . You can’t fault him for that, any more than I can!”

“The hell I can’t, Saori!  No one, and I do mean no one, is allowed to talk to you like that!  If ojii-san finds out—"

“You really can’t tell him!” she blurted.  “Ojii-chan will—”

“Ojii-chan will, what?”

Spinning around as she sucked in a harsh breath, she winced as her grandfather stepped out from behind a tall hedge with her grandmother in tow.  “Ojii-chan . . . obaa-chan . . .”

She stifled a sigh.  Though her beloved grandmother looked calm enough, she didn’t miss the blaze of fire that burned behind her magenta gaze—and she certainly didn’t mistake the flare of her grandfather’s youki, either . . . It just figured.

“Did I hear you correctly, Saori?  Feodosiv had the audacity to question your character, and he told you about Faine’s financial difficulties?” Sesshoumaru demanded.

“I know it sounds bad,” she told him.  “He really was just looking out for Fai—protecting him—and it’s okay.  Fai’s told me . . . Evgeni was one of his father’s closest friends—his only friend—and—”

Sesshoumaru’s gaze narrowed, and he held up a hand to cut her off.  “Faine told you this?”

She nodded.  “Yes.”

He seemed to be considering that, but he said nothing for a long moment.  “Rinji, take your sister into the city.  Take her out to lunch or shopping or to the movies.  I need to verify a couple of things . . .” he commanded.

“Ojii-chan—"

“Trust me, Saori,” he told her.

She didn’t want to leave, and she wasn’t sure that trusting her grandfather was a good idea, given that he didn’t look like he was willing to stand back and say nothing.  She didn’t have much of a choice in it, though, and to that end, she said nothing when Rinji sipped an arm around her shoulders and propelled her away from her grandparents . . .

“What are you thinking?” Kagura asked, drawing his gaze as she watched her grandchildren walk away.

Sesshoumaru shook his head slowly.  “I’ve heard that name before,” he said.  “Once recently, but . . . I am not positive, but I seem to recall Alexei telling me about some issue he had with a griffon-vulture-youkai . . . And I think the name he gave then was Feodosiv . . .”

“And you think it’s him?  You think he had something to do with the missing account information?” she concluded.

Sesshoumaru didn’t confirm or deny her suspicions, but his eyes narrowed dangerously as he pulled his phone out and scrolled through the numbers in memory . . .

 

* * *

 

 

“I have to say, it’s very interesting, having this many of the leaders of our world, here in one place,” Evgeni remarked with a little smile.  Standing near the window that overlooked the back gardens, he swirled the vodka in his glass in an almost distracted kind of way.  “Almost makes me wish that I could skip the little vacation that Arrida’s gone to so much trouble to plan . . .”

Fai chuckled.  “Well, it’s a shame that you’re leaving tomorrow,” he remarked.   “I’m sure that Paris will be lovely this time of year.”

Evgeni didn’t look at all convinced.  “One shopping trip a year,” he said.  “As long as she keeps it down to just the one, then I suppose I can’t complain too much.”

“And you’re telling me that if she wanted to go somewhere else this year, you’ll deny her?” Fai challenged mildly.

Evgeni shrugged.  “Of course, I would,” he said in a tone that indicated that he’d do no such thing.

Pushing himself out his chair, Fai wandered over to refill his glass at the wet-bar.  “Of course,” he agreed with a shake of his head and a little smile.

Evgeni’s gaze narrowed as he stared out the window.  “Saori . . . She seems to be close to that one—Sesshoumaru’s grandson, is he?”

Tipping the glass to his lips as he joined Evgeni, as he watched Saori, who grabbed Rinji’s arm and seemed to be talking rather emphatically to him, Fai shrugged.  “Well, considering—”

“And she’s even managed to grab Sesshoumaru’s ear, as well?  That’s interesting . . .”

“Evgeni—”

The griffon-vulture-youkai grunted.  “Who are her people, Fai?  Tell me that you know something about her.”  He shook his head.  “Tell me you’re not being swayed by a pretty face . . . I . . .” He grimaced.  “I beg your pardon, but I really don’t trust her.”

Slowly shaking his head, as though he were warning Evgeni that he was treading upon very unstable ground, Fai cleared his throat.  “Evgeni—”

Evgeni went on as though Fai hadn’t interrupted, at all.  “I know; I know.  You . . . You think that she’s . . . I don’t know.  Maybe you’re even thinking that she could be the one, but you cannot trust her, Your Grace!  A woman like her will use every wile she’s got in order to—”

A sharp knock on the office door cut Evgeni off.  “Come in,” Fai called, pushing away from the window, turning around as Toga stepped into the office.  “Were you able to get settled in?” he asked, brushing off the intense stab of irritation brought on by Evgeni’s unnecessary concern.

The Japanese tai-youkai smiled.  “I did, thanks.  Anyway, I thought I’d bring you the files I have on the couples who were interested in adopting.  I know I sent Saori the preliminary reports, but we just got them back from our research officer, so these are the more thorough home studies and financial reports.”

“Thanks,” Fai said, taking the files and setting them aside for the moment.  “Oh, Toga, this is Evgeni Feodosiv.  Evgeni, this is the Japanese tai-youkai, Toga Inutaisho.”

Toga nodded and offered Evgeni a slight bow—just enough to be polite, Fai supposed.  Evgeni smiled broadly.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” he greeted.

Toga chuckled.  “Just Toga is fine,” he replied.  Then he turned toward Fai once more.  “Where’s Saori-chan hiding, anyway?  I haven’t seen her at all yet . . .”

“She left with Rinji,” Sesshoumaru said as he let himself into the office.

Fai didn’t miss the look that Evgeni sent him—a knowing kind of look.

Evgeni smiled, setting his empty glass on a side table.  “Your Grace, I hate to cut this short, but I really must be going.  Think about what I’ve said.”

Fai gave one slow nod just to appease him.

“It was my pleasure to meet you both,” Evgeni went on, stepping over to shake Sesshoumaru’s hand and then, Toga’s.

Frowning at the strange sense of blankness in Sesshoumaru’s aura—the kind of blankness that was deliberate and calculated, Fai said nothing as he watched Evgeni slip out of the office and close the door.  He wasn’t entirely sure, what to make of any of it, but he couldn’t help but feel at least a little irritated at Evgeni’s digs at Saori . . .

“Faine . . .”

Brushing aside the lingering sense of annoyance, Fai met Sesshoumaru’s intense gaze.  “Yes?”

“How well do you know Feodosiv?”

He blinked, frowned at the strange question.  “Evgeni?  Pretty well, I guess . . . He came around, introduced himself shortly after Father left . . .”

Nodding slowly, Sesshoumaru considered that for a moment before continuing.  “And he . . . was Alexei’s . . . _friend_ . . . This is what Saori tells me?”

“Tou-san?”

Sesshoumaru held up a finger at Toga without taking his eyes off of Fai.

“Yes, that’s right,” Fai agreed.  “Why . . .?”

“May I ask you . . .?  What does he know of your finances?  Personal and otherwise?”

Fai wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with his questioning, and if he were anyone other than the Inu no Taisho, Fai would probably tell him it was none of his business.  But . . . “I guess . . . I mean, he knows pretty much everything—Well, everything except for the information regarding the official account, that is . . .”

“Did you tell him about everything?”

Fai let out a deep breath.  “He already knew,” he said.  “Evgeni was the one who brought me all the bank information . . . He works closely with them, so he offered to deliver it to me . . .”

That strange sense of nothingness in Sesshoumaru’s gaze seemed to intensify as he slowly nodded.  “I see.”

Fai shook his head.  “Do you?  Because I have no idea, where you’re going with any of this.  I mean, Evgeni just dropped everything off.  The envelope was sealed, so—”

Sesshoumaru gave a little shrug.  “I’m not questioning your decisions, Faine,” he assured him.  “But you should know, he makes Saori uncomfortable,” he said.

“He does?”

“You didn’t know this?”

Shifting uncomfortably at the implication that he didn’t pay enough attention to Saori’s feelings, Fai slowly shook his head.  “She . . . She never said anything . . .”

“Of course, she wouldn’t,” Sesshoumaru remarked.  “She’d never begrudge you your relationship with Feodosiv.”

He sighed.  “So, she told you this, but refused to say anything to me about it,” Fai concluded.

“What does he know of her?” Sesshoumaru asked without confirming or denying Fai’s assertions.

Fai’s temper was rapidly rising, and suddenly, Sesshoumaru shook his head.  “Does he know that she’s my granddaughter?”

“Wha—? Uh, n-no, actually . . . He doesn’t,” Fai replied.

“Good,” Sesshoumaru said.  “For now, would you mind not telling him?”

Fai shook his head in confusion.  “Okay, but—”

Sesshoumaru slowly nodded once.  “Trust me, Faine.  I need to check a few things, but I’ll tell you everything soon enough.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Posting this because I am probably going to be out of town a little bit—a week, maybe two.  My mother’s been ailing, and I’m going to go take care of her until she’s better able to do for herself (I hope) … She’s suffering congestive heart failure.  Her heart is functioning at around 25 percent.  If it drops to around 20 percent or lower, then she’ll receive hospice care, but since she wants to come home from the hospital now, she needs someone who can help her.  It’s a really tough time for me.  I hope you can understand.  I’ll update when I can, but no promises.  Until I return, thanks for reading_!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _What the hell’s going on_ …?


	54. 53: Tempest

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_53_** ~~  
~ ** _Tempest_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“What do you think?”

Rinji raised an eyebrow and slowly shook his head as he peered over the top of the magazine he’d found, lying on the table beside the comfortable chair in the small and quiet dress shop.  “Don’t you think that you should be picking out a wedding dress with kaa-san and obaa-san?” he asked dryly.

“Maybe,” Saori allowed with an offhanded shrug.  “But you’re here, and they’re not, so . . .”

He sighed.  “That one makes your butt look big,” he said, disappearing into the pages of Newsweek once more.

Saori snorted.  “Baka,” she grumbled, spinning around on her heel to stomp off to change.  He chuckled behind her.  She made a face.

She hadn’t thought that it would be that difficult to find an appropriate dress for the very casual, very cozy wedding.  Nothing too fancy, nothing with the frills or ridiculously long skirts—none of that.  All of them that she’d found so far, however, were more like simple summer dresses or just a little too business-like to suit.

It didn’t take long for her to change back into her regular clothes and carefully arrange the dress on a hanger.  When she opened the door, she handed the dress to the nearby attendant before heading back over to her brother and slapping him indelicately on the arm.  “All right, nii-chan,” she told him, intercepting the very appreciative looks that the couple of salesgirls over by the counter were casting in Rinji’s direction.  “You know, you’re being shamelessly ogled,” she pointed out with a very bright smile.

He blinked and paused for a moment before bending down the top corner of the magazine.  Amber eyes taking on a rather suspect kind of lilt, he managed a very good affectation of their grandfather’s infamous blank stare.  “Do I want to know what you’re talking about?”

Just to twist that knife a little more, Saori turned at the waist and smiled brightly as she wiggled her fingers very pleasantly in the salesgirls’ direction.  The two girls held a very quick conversation before one of them hurried over, her own smile flashing as she stopped before them.  “May I help you?”

Saori slid her gaze to the side, long enough to intercept the ever-so-slight narrowing of Rinji’s gaze.  “Oh, I was just wondering if you’re seeing anyone?  Nii-chan, here, was saying that he wouldn’t mind getting your phone number—if that’s not too forward . . .”

The girl looked like she was caught somewhere between disbelief and sheer euphoria as Rinji slowly stood up.  “Nii-chan?” the girl echoed, shaking her head since she didn’t understand that at all.

Saori giggled.  “I’m Japanese,” she explained.  “Nii-chan means my big brother.”

“Oh, your _brother!_ ” the girl blurted, seeming a little more relieved than she probably should have.  “Umm, no, I’m . . . I’m not at the moment,” she replied, pulling a small white card from her pocket and extending it to her.

Saori accepted it, sparing a minute to look it over, holding it reverently in her pinched fingers.  She didn’t dare look at him since she figured that he wasn’t going to be at all impressed—if she told him, anyway—since the entire conversation was going on in Russian . . .

“Thank you so much,” Saori replied.

Rinji leaned down to whisper in her ear.  “What are you doing, Saori-chan?”

She ignored him.  “I’m sure he’ll call you!” she hurried on to say.  “It was very nice to meet you!”

He must have gotten an idea of what was going on, and he quickly bowed slightly before herding Saori out of the shop and onto the street once more.  She turned to hand him the girl’s card, but he grunted, refusing to take it.  “Saori . . .”

“Yes, nii-chan?”

He was walking so fast that she had to hurry to keep up with him.  “Did you just try to find me a date?”

Pressing her lips together to keep from laughing outright at the absolute menace in his tone, she shrugged instead.  “She was very pretty—Ingrid-san . . .”

Uttering a very terse grunt, he yanked open the car door and waited for her to slip inside.  Then he slammed it closed and stomped around to the driver’s side, but it wasn’t until he’d negotiated the vehicle into the lane of traffic that he finally deigned to speak to her.  “I can’t believe you did that,” he complained, pulling to a stop, waiting for the traffic light.

She snorted.  “That dress did not make my butt look big,” she challenged haughtily.

Suddenly, he chuckled.  “So, you thought to find me a date to get back at me for teasing you?”

“I’ll bet she thought that your blushing was even cuter,” she assured him.

He rolled his eyes, and it wasn’t surprising at all to find him blushing again.  “You’re a menace,” he grumbled at her.

She giggled, but her amusement died away as she turned her attention out the window.  Getting away for the day was a decent distraction, she figured, but it really didn’t do anything to make her feel any better about what might well be going on back at the castle.

“You should have told Fai-sama,” Rinji remarked, keeping his eyes trained carefully on the road.  “He’s your mate.  That means he’d want to know what Feodosiv-san said to you.”

She sighed, making a face, propping her chin on her fist, elbow resting on the door armrest.  “How could I do that?” she challenged quietly.  “Evgeni-san’s the closest that Fai has to family, other than Yerik-kun . . .” She frowned, bit her lip.  “As mean as he was, he was just trying to protect Fai, and . . . and really, I can’t fault him for that . . .”

Tapping his claws on the steering wheel—something he always did when he was thinking—he shook his head.  “Are you sure about that?  I mean, it’s really none of his business.  It’s not like he can do anything, and even if he could, it’d be reckless.  You can’t separate mates . . .”

“I know,” she replied.  “I just . . . I’m sure that he’ll . . . He’ll be fine with it.  You’ll see.  Once he realizes that I’m not trying to do any of those things . . .”

“You’re missing the point,” he told her, turning the car onto the highway that would take them back to the castle.

“What point?”

He reached over, tweaked her ear.  “Fai-sama would want to know.  Even if Feodosiv-san is just concerned, it’s not your job to defend him.  The ones you should be protecting are Fai-sama—and yourself.  Don’t let that old bastard knock you down, especially when you don’t deserve it.”

 

* * *

 

 

Using his thumb to swipe over the phone screen to end the call, Sesshoumaru let the device fall from his hand onto the table with a dull clatter as he scowled out of the window of the guest bedroom.

“Did you verify whatever it was you were checking into?”

He turned his head slightly—just far enough to regard his mate.  “I did,” he replied, letting his amber eyes flick back out the window once more.  “It’s as I thought.”  Letting out a deep breath that wasn’t quite a sigh, his gaze narrowed as he watched the empty driveway.  “Damn . . .”

A gentle hand rubbed his back as Kagura stopped behind him.  “Would you care to tell me what’s going on?  It concerns my granddaughter, too, after all . . .”

“I spoke with Gostoyev Vladimir at the bank, who is the officer in charge of all of Faine’s accounts.  He seemed to be a little reluctant to answer my questions, but he finally acknowledged that Feodosiv . . . _volunteered_ to deliver all of the account information to Faine—two large envelopes.  Faine only received the one.  The fact that Gostoyev was so . . . unenthusiastic about talking to me makes me suspicious . . . If he’d told Feodosiv about the second account . . .”

“Then he could have easily just . . . chosen not to give it to him . . .” Kagura nodded.  “But why?  What would the point of that even be?”

Sesshoumaru shrugged.  “Simple enough.  If Faine didn’t have the money to pay for the official services, would that not make him look rather inept?  And if the youkai got wind of his financial difficulties . . .”

She sighed, rubbing her forehead as she leaned against the window frame beside him.  “They could easily choose to challenge him—or worse . . . If they banded together, brokered some kind of revolution . . .?”

Nodding slowly, Sesshoumaru met her concerned gaze.

Kagura considered what he’d said for several minutes, idly fussing with the top button of her green silk blouse.  It was a fidgety kind of habit, one that usually amused him.  Just now, however, he was too busy, trying to figure out just what was going on, though his understanding was very nearly complete . . . “And you said that you think Alexei complained about him before?  Do you remember what he said?”

Eyes narrowing as he concentrated on that half-forgotten conversation, Sesshoumaru tapped his index finger claw against the window frame.  It wasn’t too long before Faina had died, if he recalled correctly.  He’d called to give Sesshoumaru his yearly briefing—something that many of the tai-youkai didn’t bother doing, but Alexei had always been very proactive in keeping Sesshoumaru informed . . .

“ _Everything seems to be in order—at least, as much as it ever is here_ . . .”

“ _Nothing you cannot handle, Alexei?_ ”

 _The Red Dog—a nickname given to Alexei back when he was little more than a pup—grunted.  “Nothing that I’m unfamiliar with, in any case_.”

“ _Oh?_ ”

 _Alexei sighed—an odd sort of sound from the proud Russian.  “Just rumors.  An old griffon-vulture’s been heard to be whispering in some of my regents’ ears—talk of revolution . . . They don’t like that I don’t lean upon them—that I don’t need them.  It seems they wish I was a little more . . . compliant with the things that they want, even if those things would prove to be useless in the end . . . Damn that Feodosiv_ . . .”

“ _Feodosiv?_ ”

 _Uttering a terse grunt, he swallowed loudly, the clink of ice, rattling in a glass echoing through the connection.  “Evgeni Feodosiv,” Alexei replied.  “Too smart to challenge me—too stupid to keep his venom in check_ . . .”

Blinking away the memory, Sesshoumaru slowly shook his head.  “He seemed to believe that Feodosiv was trying to incite the youkai . . . He believed that he was trying to turn the regents against him, which is entirely possible.  Faine has had some trouble with a number of them, too.  Alexei believed that they didn’t like the idea that he chose not to lean upon them when forming his own policies . . . If Feodosiv had an occasion to try to . . . ingratiate himself to Faine . . .”

Kagura’s youki flared, spiked.  “Then he would view Saori’s relationship with Faine-sama as an impediment—an obstacle to get rid of?  Is that what you’re telling me?”

Sesshoumaru shook his head again.  “At this point, it’s all speculation,” he said.  “Albeit, damning speculation.”

Snapping open her fan with a sharp flick of her wrist, Kagura pinned her mate with a fierce glare.  “He won’t be touching her,” she said, her voice, dropping to a low, silky tone.  “He will not touch my granddaughter . . .”

He reached out, gently pushing against the fan, closing it under his fingers, his palm, he nodded.  “No,” he surmised as the white car pulled into the long driveway.  “No . . . he won’t.”

 

* * *

 

 

Fai lounged in the bathroom doorway, frowning thoughtfully as he watched Saori, who had her nose buried behind the screen of her computer.  She’d mentioned something about looking up a few more things for the wedding, so she’d brought the device to bed.

“ _But you should know, he makes Saori uncomfortable_ . . .”

That statement had been spinning around his head ever since Sesshoumaru had said them, along with a guilty sort of pang that he hadn’t realized it already.  That strange sort of expression he’d seen on her face when he’d mentioned that Evgeni was stopping by . . . He’d seen it, and he’d discounted it when she’d covered it up a moment later . . .

‘ _Uncomfortable?  Exactly what does that mean?_ ’ his youkai countered.

Fai’s frown deepened.  He didn’t know, but he was going to find out . . .

“Saori . . .” he trailed off, shouldering himself away from the doorway.

“Hmm?”  She didn’t look up from her computer.

Fai made a face that she missed completely.  “Could you put that away?  We need to talk . . .”

He didn’t miss the way she bristled for a moment.  Then, she snapped the computer closed and leaned over to set it on the nightstand before drawing up her legs, resting back on her pillows, her hands on her raised knees.

“Tell me what it is about Evgeni that makes you uneasy,” he said, stretching out on his side, propping his head on his hand.

She started to open her mouth, but he shushed her with his fingertips before she could speak.  “Don’t lie to me, okay?”

She winced as he let his hand drop away.  “It’s okay,” she told him, managing a very weak and thin smile that was far more uncertain than it really ought to have been.  “He . . . He was just protecting you, and that’s what a good friend does.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

She sighed.  “Does it really matter, what he said?” she countered.  “It doesn’t; not really.  All it would do is cause trouble . . . I don’t want to come between you and Evgeni-san . . .”

“You know, don’t you?  You’re the most important person in my life—more important than anyone, including Evgeni.  Do you think that I want you to feel uncomfortable in your own home?  Because I don’t, and if Evgeni’s presence here makes you feel that way, then I want—I _need_ —to know why.”

She frowned at him, her brows drawing together in a consternated kind of stubbornness.  “Is he just a friend?” she asked, ignoring his request, altogether.  “Is he only your friend?  Your advisor and confidant?  Or is he more like family to you—maybe not as close to you as Yerik, but family, just the same?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” he growled, feeling the edges of his patience rapidly fraying.  Heaving a huge sigh, he flopped over onto his back, scowling up at the ceiling.  Had he realized that she could be that stubborn?  No, somehow, he’d missed that part of it, hadn’t he?  Then again, maybe he hadn’t.  She’d been adamant enough that he needed to meet the orphans in the beginning that she’ managed to appropriate him, after all, so yes, maybe he ought to have known . . .

“You don’t have many people in your life that you trust, Fai,” she said quietly, softly.  “Please don’t ask me to take that away from you . . . It’s . . . Well, it’s not fair . . .”

He reached over, tugged her down next to him, wrapped his arms around her and held her close.  Her caring was evident, even if it did frustrate him.  Sure, he could appreciate what she was telling him, and yet, she just didn’t seem to comprehend it, either.

“I don’t want to trust someone who isn’t worth trusting,” he told her, the memory of Evgeni’s thinly veiled accusations, flicking through his head.  “No matter who it is . . . Even if he was, as you say, trying to protect me, there’s nothing about you that I need protected from . . . And it’s my job to protect you, but I can’t if you won’t tell me what he said.”

She sighed.  “He just . . . He thought that maybe I was after your money or . . . or your title.  But . . . But he’ll see, won’t he?  When we’re mates for real, then . . . Then he’ll know.”

“That’s what he said to you?” Fai reiterated.

She shrugged and snuggled closer to his side.  “It wasn’t so much what he said as it was the way he’d said it,” she admitted.  “He was . . . Well, he was really . . . angry . . .”

He kissed her forehead, held her just a little tighter.  To be entirely honest, he was even more confused than he was before.  It simply didn’t make sense.  Of course, he believed her, but if she was telling the truth, then just what was Evgeni up to?  Concerned, maybe . . . Even so . . .

“ _May I ask you . . .?  What does he know of your finances?  Personal and otherwise?_ ”

His eyes widened.  Sesshoumaru . . . He thought that Evgeni had something to do with that missing account, didn’t he?

Of course, he did.  Why else would he have asked?  But if Evgeni did have something to do with that . . . Was there a point?  Was there something else that Fai wasn’t seeing? 

Unfortunately, there were no real answers, no explanations that made a damn bit of sense.  There was nothing at all as the minutes ticked away, as he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, struggling for an understanding that simply wasn’t there . . . Just his thoughts and his growing pile of questions . . . and the welcome warmth and comfort of the woman sleeping next to him . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ ** _=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=_** ~
> 
>  ** _A/N_** :
> 
>  _STILL ON HIATUS … Just thought I’d give you a chapter to tide you over.  Firstly, I’ve decided to finish this story before I resume posting regularly.  It shouldn’t take too long.  I’m working now on the last … few chapters, and I’m currently on chapter 68 (anywhere between 1 and 10 to go, lol) … For those who aren’t in the Facebook group, I’ve been posting teasers for **Purity Zero** , which will post after this story since **Anhanguera** is so … dark, and even I need a break from that, so **Purity Zero** will be the main story with **Anhanguera** lingering in the background (like it has with **Vivication**_.)
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
>  _** xSerenityx020 ——— Emy ——— Goldeninugoddess
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
>  _** minthegreen ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— Toyasgurl ——— Monsterkittie ——— Shironeko316 ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
>  _** cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _What the hell’s going on_ …?


	55. 54: Insomnia

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_54_** ~~  
~ ** _Insomnia_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

‘ _Be careful who you trust.  There are many who are trying to use you, some obvious, some not, and if you put your trust into the wrong person, the repercussions can have grave effects.  Trust yourself above all others.  In the end, that’s all you’ll have—your own counsel—but listen to yourself because no one else is ever going to truly understand the weight of our office_ . . .’

Letting out a deep breath as he settled deeper into the plush chair—the only chair—in the small room in the second level of the basement of the Demyanov castle—the vault.  It was a dark room, a mini-fortress, of sorts.  Originally, it was a simple empty space with added locking doors that could only be opened by the recognized youki of the Demyanov family—just a barren space that was used as a storeroom for all of the things that were deemed of value.

Sometime during his great-grandfather’s time, he’d decided that a renovation of sorts was in order, so the room had been expanded, dug out of the earth beneath the castle so that the actual basement didn’t seem to be compromised or made to look too small.  As the tale went, his great-grandfather, Otham Demyanov had been almost morbidly afraid of . . . Well, they said he was afraid of pretty much everything, which was odd, given that he was also Asian tai-youkai.  Apparently, youkai dealings didn’t bother him at all, but when it came to things like the passage of germs—he believed that biological warfare was a constant threat—or the underlying promise of human war, he was positive that those ‘infertile humans’ were determined to put an end to all manner of life, period.  To that end, he’d built this: what amounted to a bomb shelter hidden away in the second level of the basement, complete with a small kitchen, a bathroom, a very large bedroom because that was apparently important to him, too . . . a smallish living room-slash-office, and this room, hidden well behind the others . . .

Fai couldn’t sleep.  After his talk with Saori, after finally getting to her tell him what had happened with Evgeni, he’d given up, trying to drift off somewhere around two in the morning.  That she hadn’t wanted to tell him anything at all was telling enough.  She’d rather have kept it all to herself and not told him anything at all than to let him know just how rude Evgeni had been to her?  He supposed on some level, he could appreciate that.  Even so, there really hadn’t been any call for that, either, and Fai . . . Well, it wasn’t all right.  After everything that Evgeni had said to him . . .

To be honest, he really didn’t know what to think.  Some part of him didn’t really want to believe that Evgeni had anything but his best interests in mind, but he knew how things seemed, too, and his behavior toward Saori?  That wasn’t going to continue; not at all. All of that aside, Fai wasn’t a pup, and he most certainly wasn’t stupid.  He might not be as old as Evgeni, but he was old enough—perceptive enough—to know that Saori certainly was his mate . . .

He didn’t know when the idea had occurred to him—to read the journal his father had left for him when he’d walked out of his and Yerik’s lives years ago.  Fai had read it all back then when he’d found it atop his father’s desk—his desk, but that was years ago, and maybe there was information contained within it that Fai had somehow missed the first time around.  Or maybe he just hadn’t understood with the same clarity that he might now.

Yerik had yet to read it.  Fai hadn’t yet mentioned it to him.  It wasn’t that he was keeping it from him, of course.  It was more that the opportunity had yet to present itself, and even then, Fai had to admit that he wasn’t entirely sure that Yerik really would want to read it, in the first place . . . If he couldn’t rightfully recall their father, then would it really matter?  Or would it make Yerik feel just a little worse about something that he literally had no control over . . .?

It didn’t mean that Fai wouldn’t let him read it, if that’s what he wanted to do.  After all, advice was advice, and, should something happen to Fai, then it would fall upon Yerik to take over in his place.  It was something that Yerik knew.  It was also something that the younger Demyanov hated to talk about . . .

Snapping the thin notebook closed with a heavy sigh, Fai scowled as he flopped back in the chair, as his gaze shifted around the room.  Book cases piled high with all manner of information—ancient reports collected over centuries about various families, groups, even countries that fell under the Asian jurisdiction . . . Shelves that housed many of the priceless antiques and artifacts that the family had gathered over time . . . Filing cabinets, full of all the important documentation—birth certificates, marriage records—everything, but there were no magic books with the answers to the questions that plagued him, either.

Grasping the arms of the chair to haul himself to his feet, he strode over, slipped the journal back into the drawer where he kept it along with the official reports from every hunt, every challenge . . . Before Fai, his father had kept records like that, too, though his tended to consist only of a record of the crimes that led to the hunts or ended in challenges, along with the official hunt order—every last one of them down here, marked as completed . . .  Fai was the only one who wrote down the details of those things . . .

Slamming the drawer closed as his temper got the better of him, he blinked and frowned when another book fell off the top of the floor-to-ceiling cabinet.  It was a thick book that reminded Fai of those ancient tomes with vellum parchment pages with fine but old leather covers that may have been a fawn color in days long past, but was now a deep, dark chocolate . . .

As he stooped down to pick it up, he stopped, his hands hovering just above it as the vaguest slip of memory flickered to life like a candle set under a glass chimney.  That memory slowly gained strength—something he’d almost forgotten: his father, sitting at his desk while Fai played on the floor with a couple wooden trucks . . . He wasn’t more than maybe three at that time, and yet, he could remember that book.  Alexei had written in it once a week, on Saturday nights, as faithfully as clockwork.  He’d said once that it was a diary when Fai asked.

His father’s diary . . .?

He had no idea, just what his father might have written inside those pages, and a part of him didn’t really want to look—didn’t want to invade Alexei’s privacy, even though he was long gone from this earth.  But having a chance to gain a better understanding of the man that rarely expressed any kind of real emotion unless it involved Fai’s mother . . .

Carefully, almost reverently, he lifted it and carried it back with him to the chair . . .

 

* * *

 

 

“So, oyaji should be here with the pups and Ryo sometime today, right?”

Glancing up from the phone as she shot off an email to confirm reservations for the South American potential adopters, Saori nodded.  “That’s right.”

Kichiro Izayoi reached over her shoulder for the slim-file that contained the files of all the orphans.  He and his mate, Bellaniece had volunteered to give all the children extensive physicals to ensure that they were completely healthy and ready to go to their new countries, as long as the meetings went well, but the main reason he was here was so that he could oversee Saori’s official marking—something that they were planning on doing later on today before everyone else started to trickle in.  They’d just arrived about half an hour ago along with Gunnar, who was currently out on the enclosed patio with the rest of the men, and Bellaniece was still up in their room, taking a short nap since they’d flown out very early this morning.  He tapped the file against his thigh and leaned down to give Saori a quick squeeze.  He, like Ryomaru, was technically more of a second-cousin, but, since they were older and closer, she referred to them both as uncles, instead . . .

Kichiro frowned.  “And where is this mate of yours?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as his hanyou ears twitched.

Saori’s smile faded, only to be replaced with a thoughtful scowl.  “I don’t know,” she admitted.  “I mean, he was already up when I woke up, and Vasili said he wasn’t sure . . . But it seems like he’s . . . here . . .”

Kichiro nodded slowly, scratching his chin as he considered what she’d said.  “Well, this place is big enough, I guess.  You could probably go a month without having to see each other, if you didn’t want to . . .”

She rolled her eyes but giggled.  “I think I probably should go see if I can find him,” she remarked, standing up and sparing a moment to give Kichiro a proper hug.

“All right . . . Oh, do you know what room would be best to use for the examinations?”

“Hmm, maybe ask Vasili?  He’s better at that kind of thing, and since the other tai-youkai are set to start arriving, I’m not entirely sure where he’s planning on putting them, either . . .”

“Apologies for interrupting, but I heard my name, Your Grace?”

Saori giggled at the sudden formality that the butler had taken to using whenever he addressed her, but she didn’t correct him.  “Kichiro-oji-chan needs use of a spare room to conduct physicals on the children after they arrive,” she said.  “Can you arrange that?”

The butler nodded.  “Of course.  This way, Master Kichiro.”

She watched them go, her smile slowly fading.  Her mood was still surprisingly upbeat.  It was more that she really had no idea, just where Fai had gone, that concerned her.

The odd thing was, she really could tell that he wasn’t that far away, but he wasn’t in his office—she’d already looked—and he wasn’t on the back patio with the other men who were currently having breakfast and discussion things that tended to bore Saori just a little bit.

‘ _Well, track him down, then, Saori . . . Put your lessons to some practical use._ ’

She nodded, to herself, pausing long enough to get her bearings, trying to get a feel for just where he seemed to be.

It wasn’t her nose that led her, though, when she finally headed into the foyer.  She could sense his youki as well as she could feel her own, and that was what she followed.  Pausing at the head of the stairs that she’d never actually been down before, she frowned.  The stairway was lit by something far below around a corner.  It looked safe enough, which was kind of a silly thought, given that this was Fai’s home.  Even so, the fleeting memory of those stories of hauntings that Yerik had mentioned back in the beginning, lingered in the recesses of her mind.  He hadn’t mentioned anything about a haunted basement, though . . .

‘ _Haunted?  Oh, please!  There’s no such thing, you realize.  It’d be kind of cool if there were, though . . . Do you think that you could convince nii-chan that it’s haunted?  If you could, do you think it’d freak him out a little?_ ’

Wrinkling her nose at her wayward youkai’s words, she stopped, looked around at the large basement corridor that stretched out before her.

Fai wasn’t there, she thought, her frown deepening as her gaze shifted to the second set of downward stairs.  It seemed to her that the feel of his youki was thicker there, and without another thought, she took those stairs, too, a little faster than she’d descended the first set.

Maybe it was just because the Demyanov Castle was so large, so old, but the strange sense of vulnerability crept up her spine.  As these stairs descended, the sense of decay grew, too—the dark and rich scent of earth and all those hidden things—things that were held at bay by the thick stone walls, but even those walls themselves were slowly crumbling, weren’t they?

Stepping onto the landing in another long hallway, a maze of closed doors, of secret things . . . Her overactive imagination wondered if this area had ever been used as a jail or a dungeon.  Then again, maybe it was best, not to know the answer to that.  Given that she’d been arrested and held here, then it was a good thing that there were no active facilities here now . . .

She didn’t go far along the corridor.  Stopping suddenly, a frown drawing her brows together as she turned and stared at a blank stretch of stone wall, she shook her head.  For some reason, she felt like he was right there, didn’t she?  Just on the other side of that wall, but there were no doors there—not one that she could see as he leaned back, stared down the hallway . . .

Leaning in, she rested her hands against the stones, slowly examined the wall, even though she really didn’t know what she was looking for . . .

Letting out a deep breath, she stepped back, dug her phone out of her pocket to fire off a text to the missing tai-youkai, hoping that he’d at least taken his phone with him, too . . .

‘ _Where are you?  I’m in the basement, and I can tell you’re here, but why can’t I find the door?_ ’

She waited for a couple minutes.  She was about to give up, to go back upstairs, when a soft click sounded.  A moment later, the stones scraped open, and Fai slowly shook his head at her, but he had a wan smile on his face, and she stepped past him into the hidden rooms . . .

“What’s this?” she asked, face upturned as she took in the rather cozy interior.

He sighed.  “My great-grandfather was a little . . . eccentric,” he explained.  “This is the vault.  Everything important is kept here, which reminds me . . .” Taking her hand, he pulled her over to a very large, standing chest with very short drawers.  It almost reminded her of an apothecary cabinet, but the drawers weren’t quite that tall, and most of them were as wide as the cabinet itself.  Toward the bottom of the ten-foot-tall cabinet were narrower drawers that were taller—Two rows of three across and one large cabinet built into the bottom.  “These are the Demyanov jewels.  The ones that were left in your room were just a small portion of them.  These are all the real ones.  They’re yours, of course.”

She nodded, eyes widening as he opened drawer after drawer.  They were all full of gorgeous gems, of beautiful, shining pieces, all laid out on thick black velvet.  Rings, necklaces, matching bracelets and earrings . . . Tiaras in the lower drawers . . . She shook her head.  “ _Kami_ ,” she breathed, taking a step back in retreat.  “All of those . . .?”

He shrugged, obviously not that impressed with the jewelry as he closed the drawers once more.  “I’ve only seen some of these worn in pictures,” he admitted.  “Mother’s favorites are the ones that are in the chest in your room.”  Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he shrugged.  “We can change the identilocks on the chests later on so you can open them . . . Oh, did your uncle make it?”

She nodded.  “Gunnar-san, too . . .” She bit her lip.  “Tell me why you’re down here?”

He sighed.  “Father left a journal for me when he left,” he explained.  “I thought maybe there was something in it that might clear some things up for me, but . . . but there really wasn’t . . .”

“About . . . Evgeni-san, you mean?”

He nodded.  “Then I found Father’s diary . . . I’ve been reading it, but . . .”

Letting her head fall to the side as she stared at Fai, she reached up, brushed his unruly bangs out of his face.  “Do you feel like you’re prying into his thoughts?”

He grimaced.  “Something like that.”

She stepped over to him, slipped her arms up around him.  “It’s okay if you want to remain friends with him, you know,” she said.  “I mean, once we’re mates, he’ll see that . . . that he was wrong about me . . .”

Fai didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded slowly, wrapping his arms around her, gently kissing her forehead.  She had a feeling that there was something that he wanted to say, but, in the end, he just held her . . . and sighed.

 

* * *

 

 

Standing with his arms crossed over his chest, a very small smile, toying with the corners of his lips as he watched the orphans as they ran around, playing and hollering, exploring and laughing, dragging the adults—Saori and her family and Yerik—all over the place.  To his surprise, InuYasha seemed to have made some small friends, which amused him, given that the hanyou tended to be a lot on the surly side most of the time.  Even more surprising, in his estimation, was watching as Sesshoumaru sat in the grass, allowing a couple of the very small girls to pick flowers and stick them into his hair, much to his mate’s undisguised amusement . . .

A small tug on the leg of his slacks drew his attention, and his smile widened as Galinia peered up at him.  Dressed in an old but very clean and pressed yellow dress, she dug the toe of her little white patent leather Mary Janes into the grass under her feet.  “Saori said you’re getting married,” she said, slowly, sadly shaking her head.  “But I wanted to marry you . . .”

He chuckled, tugging on his slacks as he hunkered down beside her and drew her into his arms.  “I’m sorry, Galinia . . . Saori’s making me do it.”

The girl’s wide blue eyes widened even more.  “She is?”

He nodded.  “But I promise you’ll meet someone better than me one day . . .”

She didn’t look like she believed him as her bottom lip jutted out in a marked pout.

He chuckled, turning her around and pointing at Rinji.  “What about him?  He’s pretty, right?  You could marry him if you wanted . . .”

She shook her head.  “Viktoriya wants to marry him.  She said so . . .”

Fai chuckled again, wondering vaguely if Rinji had any idea that he’d been so unceremoniously claimed . . . “What about Yerik?  He just broke up with his fiancée . . .”

Galinia quickly shook her head.  “He’s scary!” she whispered.

Fai blinked.  “He is?”

She nodded.

“Yerik is?”

She nodded again.

“Oh . . .”

“Fai-san . . . Have you seen otou-san?”

Fai glanced up at Gunnar Inutaisho, who was frowning slightly as he took in the sight of the children, romping all over the yard.   A few of them had wrestled InuYasha to the ground, and the hanyou was allowing them to climb all over him like he was a living, breathing jungle gym . . . “Um . . . I think he was making a few phone calls in my office . . .”

Gunnar bowed slightly.  “Thank you,” he said as he turned to leave.

Galinia leaned toward him.  “I want to marry him,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes off of Gunnar.

“Hey, Gunnar . . .”

The hanyou who would one day be the tai-youkai of Japan stopped and turned to face him.  “Yes?”

Fai stood up.  “This is Galinia . . . She wants to marry you.  Congratulations.”

The hanyou blinked, mouth dropping open, as Fai gently pushed the girl toward him and headed over to intercept Saori . . .

“Galinia’s mad at you,” he said, slipping his arms around his mate, pulling her back against his chest.  She was watching some of the older boys as they tried to hand fish in the small stream.  The fish in that stream were tiny, so even if they caught them, they’d let them go again.

She giggled.  “Galinia?  Why?”

He shrugged.  “I might have let it slip that you’re forcing me to marry you.”

She gasped and craned her neck to pin him with a very stern look that was ruined a second later when she giggled.  “You didn’t!”

“I did,” he told her.  “Don’t worry, though.  I helped her out.  She’s now engaged to your cousin.”

“My what?”

He chuckled.  “Your cousin.  His response was about the same as yours.”

She looked around and finally laughed when she spotted Gunnar, walking along with Galinia, hanging onto his finger.  “Oh . . . That’s cute . . .” she breathed.

Fai nodded.  “It rather is . . .”

She sighed.  “Considering he’s not really that fond of children?  Well, he says he doesn’t mind them.  He just doesn’t like babies very much . . .”

He kissed her temple.  “Saori?”

She was still watching Gunnar and Galinia.  The little girl let go of his hand, long enough to pluck a flower before darting back to him and taking his finger again.  “Hmm?”

He frowned.  She didn’t see it.  “Where is that uncle of yours?  Ryomaru?”

She shook her head.  “I don’t know . . . I think he might have said something about checking on supper . . .”

His arms dropped away.  “I’ll be back.”

She blinked and grabbed his hand before he could make a break for it.  “Oh, no, you’re not going to go and cause a fight over kelp in borsht.”

He grunted.  “It doesn’t belong in there,” he growled.

She shook her head and hung on tighter.  “Fai, he’s your guest.”

“Exactly, which is why he shouldn’t be in my damn kitchen.  In fact—”

A sudden ruckus broke out, the boys who had been fishing, suddenly turning and running.  Fai narrowed his eyes when he saw it, too: Sesshoumaru was standing now—he still had a couple flowers entwined in his hair—and was standing there, glowering at his half-brother, who had drawn his sword and was pointing it directly at the Inu no Taisho . . .

Saori sighed.  “I knew it . . . Those two can’t be in the same country without starting a fight over something—usually InuYasha-jii-chan starts it, though . . . You’d think by now that ojii-chan would have learned how to ignore him . . .”

Fai grunted, narrowing his gaze as the children’s excitement spiraled out of control.  Standing back in a wide circle around the two, they looked like they were all hoping for a lot of blood and possibly some gore, too . . . “They’re not really going to fight, are they?”

“Probably,” she replied with another sigh.

InuYasha started to heft his sword, the giant blade, glinting in the sunshine.  Off to the side, Kagura sighed and flicked open a fan, neatly sending a single wind blade, crashing into Tetsusaiga.  The legendary sword flew out of InuYasha’s hand, sailing end over end, and finally impaling itself deep into the earth as it reverted back to its old and rusty state once more.  “You’re setting a terrible example for the children,” she said in a much drier tone than Fai could credit.

The half-brothers glared at one another for another long minute as Kagome heaved a sigh and slowly shook her head . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This story is finished, so there will be daily updates till I’ve posted the rest of it, starting Monday, June 18.  This chapter is just one to tide you over and because I’m kind of bored today lol.  Reviews, as always, are highly appreciated!  Enjoy_!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020 ——— poohbearlou
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— monsterkittie ——— Alice
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _What an odd family_ …


	56. 55: Blessings

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_55_** ~~  
~ ** _Blessings_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

 _Thud_.

Fai blinked and slowly lifted his gaze from the report he was looking over to the very familiar sight of the old, chipped earthenware jug that Konstantin had plunked down on the desk before him.

But it wasn’t the old jug.  It was a new jug.  A . . . _pink_ jug . . . A _huge_ pink jug, easily double the size of the old one . . . “Pink, Kostya?”

Konstantin rumbled out that full belly-laugh.  “My father sends this in appreciation of the invitation to your most sacred day of joy and gladness!”

“He sent me a _huge pink_ jug of Devildown for a wedding present?” Fai asked.

“Devildown?  Hmm . . . It’s a good name!” Konstantin decided after careful deliberation.  “Is strong and mighty!  Is warning and promise of the best of times—and perhaps the worst, come the morn!”

Fai sighed.  “You can’t challenge me today,” he pointed out, settling back in his chair as he handed the report across the desk.  Konstantin took it and frowned as he glanced at it.  “The tai-youkai will be arriving, starting tomorrow, and I cannot possibly greet them if I’m fighting off a hangover.”

Konstantin chuckled.  “A real man—a real _Russian_ —endures!”

Fai grunted.  “Does this mean your father and mother aren’t coming?”

“No, no, no!  They simply asked me to deliver this for them since Father wants to bring Mother on his motorcycle.”

Fain slowly shook his head.  “They’re riding a motorcycle all the way down here from Siberia?”

“He’s a real man!” Konstantin boomed proudly.

“But your _mother_ isn’t,” Fai added.

Konstantin chuckled.  “Mother . . . likes the motorcycle.  She says she likes the bumps, and when my father turns a corner, she—”

“And I’m pretty sure you should stop right there,” Fai cut in with a grimace.

“Hmm . . . What is this?” Konstantin asked, rattling the report in Fai’s direction.

Fai shook his head.  From what he’d gathered in that report, there were some rumbles to be heard about a couple human disappearances lately that may or may not be youkai-related.  As regent, it would technically fall to Konstantin to find out and report it if it did happen to have something to do with the local youkai.  It was only sent to him because Konstantin hadn’t been in place long enough for it to be common knowledge . . . “I was hoping you could tell me.  This report came out of your regency . . .”

He shook his head.  “I have heard nothing of this.  I will look into this immediately!”

Fai waved a hand when Konstantin turned to go.  “It can wait a few days.  Besides, I wanted to . . . to ask you something.”

Konstantin didn’t look like he was quite ready to give up on the idea of charging off to right all wrongs in his regency, but he nodded once and relaxed his stance slightly.  “Your Grace?”

Fai rolled his eyes, mostly because he still hadn’t been able to talk Konstantin out of using the formal term of address.  “I wondered . . . I need a _svideteli_ . . . If you would . . .”

Konstantin blinked, slowly shook his head.  “You . . .?  You want me . . .?”  He choked, looking horrifyingly like he just might burst into tears.  “But I am just your lowly regent!  Surely there is one more fitting for this most sacred of tasks!”

“Well, technically, I asked Yerik, but he said that arranging the whole entertainment part afterward was too much for him, so he suggested that I ask you.”

“It is my honor!” he breathed reverently, thumping a thickly balled-up fist against his chest to emphasize his words.  “Yes, I—Konstantin Korinovich—will do this for you, oh, great and benevolent Brother of Mother Russia!”

Fai grunted when the huge bear rounded the desk, hauled him to his feet, and wrapped him into the tightest, most uncomfortable hug that he’d ever been forced into in his life—his _whole_ life—the _entire_ damned thing.  “Kostya!  Kostya, let go!” he gasped out with a grimace since the hulking man was crushing the stuffing out of him in his exuberance.

A very loud throat-clearing drew their attention, and Fai managed to glance over in time to see Gunnar Inutaisho, leaning in the doorway, arching an eyebrow in silent question.  “I can come back if you’re . . . busy,” he offered dryly.

“Is that man or woman?” Konstantin whispered, just loud enough for Fai to hear.

Fai shrugged Konstantin off.  “Gunnar is the future Japanese tai-youkai,” he replied.  “Gunnar, this is Konstantin, one of my regents.”

“ _And_ his _svideteli_ ,” Konstantin added, puffing his chest up proudly and dealing himself yet another healthy thump with that ham hock he called a fist.

Gunnar didn’t look overly impressed, probably because he had no idea what _svideteli_ meant . . . Even so, he still inclined his head.  “Pleased to meet you,” he said.

Konstantin grunted.  “He does not look like he can hold the Devildown,” he remarked to Fai and without taking his gaze off of the very pretty Inutaisho.

Gunnar narrowed his eyes.  He might not really understand what Devildown was, but he did understand the idea that Konstantin had rather deliberately disparaged him on some level.

“Kostya . . .” Fai began in a warning tone that was summarily and utterly ignored.

Konstantin strode over to Gunnar, crossing his thick arms over his even thicker chest.  “You might be pretty man, Your Grace, but are you manly like _Russian_ men?”

“Oh, boy,” Fai muttered with a sigh.

Gunnar looked properly offended.  “I’m not sure what you’re implying, but I don’t stand down from anyone or anything,” he stated.

Not surprisingly, Konstantin grinned.

Fai stifled another sigh.

 

* * *

 

 

“That . . . That looks like a really bad idea . . .”

Glancing up from the final itineraries she was putting together for the welcome packets she’d made for the arriving potential adopters, Saori frowned.  Nezumi was standing near the sheet glass windows that enclosed the patio and looked out over the back gardens.  “What’s that?”

She shook her head.  “I don’t know, but they’re all passing around a huge pink jug of . . . _something_ . . .”

Saori grimaced, dropping the papers she’d been holding as she slowly pushed herself to her feet.  “Oh . . . no . . . Is there a really big bear-youkai out there?  One that’s almost as large as Bas-san?”

“Well, there’s a huge guy out there that I’ve not seen before,” Nezumi said.

Stopping beside Nezumi, Saori heaved another sigh.  “Uh-huh . . . That’s Kostya and his homemade vodka, guaranteed to knock every last one of those guys out there on their asses . . .”

Nezumi’s frown turned a little confused.  “Why’s that jug pink?”

“I don’t know . . . The usual one is more of a brown color . . . and about half the size of that one . . .”

“Oh, please tell me that InuYasha’s not drinking that,” Kagome half-sighed, half-groaned as she stuck a neat compilation of papers into one of the folders.

“Not at the moment . . . but he just drew Tetsusaiga,” Nezumi remarked.

The miko heaved a heavy sigh as she quickly pushed herself to her feet and hurried toward the doors, muttering under her breath about baka mates and moonshine vodka.  Kagura, however, just sat back, a rather knowing smile tugging on her lips as she flicked open one of her fans and slowly fanned herself.

“Tell me if they start sumo-wrestling again,” Aiko added brightly.

Saori shook her head as InuYasha unleashed a very respectable kongousouha.  He grinned widely for all of fifteen seconds until Kagome stomped over to him and yanked the sword out of his hands.

“Did she just . . . take away Tetsusaiga . . .?”

Saori giggled as Fai stepped up behind her, peering over her head at the goings-on outside.  “She did.”

He grunted.  “He doesn’t look very happy about it . . .”

Nezumi sighed.  “It’s either that or they’ll take turns, tearing your garden up to the point that you’ll end up, having to hire someone to redo your landscaping . . .”

Fai sighed.  “Your jii-chan is a damn menace,” he grumbled.

“Well,” Kagura drawled, “he’s better behaved these days than he used to be.  That’s got to be worth something . . .”

Aiko giggled.  “Do you remember when he taught nii-chan the word, ‘bastard’?”

Kagura smiled despite the slow shake of her head.

“What’s that?” Nezumi asked, turning around to face the matriarch of the family—well, one of them, anyway.  The other one was still outside, apparently giving InuYasha an earful.

Aiko still looked entirely amused.  “He called tou-chan a bastard, and nii-chan heard him, so when he asked what that meant, Yasha-oji-chan said that it was his way of telling tou-chan how much he liked him.”

Nezumi raised her eyebrows.  They disappeared under the thick fringe of her eyebrows.  “And he’s still alive?  Huh . . .”

“I let him live because I like Kagome-chan,” Kagura said.

Fai shook his head.  “Your entire family is a strange lot,” he told Saori, purposefully saying it in Russian.

She laughed.  “Yes, and soon, they’ll all be your family, too.”

He looked positively appalled by that, which only made her giggle more.  “God forbid . . .”

“Pardon me, Your Grace . . . His Grace, Sebastian Zelig and Her Grace, Sydnie have arrived.”

Saori smiled as she hurried over to greet her second-cousin and his mate.  Sydnie, true to form, stepped in front of Bas before finally allowing that Saori could, in fact, give Bas a hug.  Bas gave her a quick squeeze—not nearly long enough to offend his gorgeous kitty-cat, before stepping over to shake Fai’s hand in greeting.  “Thank you for the invitation, Fai . . . Dad and Mom are flying in later tonight.”

“I’m glad you could make it,” Fai nodded.  “Vasili, would you show them to their room?”

The butler bowed, and Sydnie followed him.  Bas started to, but then, he noticed what was happening in the garden, golden eyes widening when he noticed that Gunnar was stumbling just a little bit.  “What’s going on out there?” he asked, nodding at the future Japanese tai-youkai.

Fai sighed.  “My regent,” he explained, wondering if Konstantin was inadvertently going to start some sort of international incident for which Fai would likely have to apologize profusely for the next thousand years or so.

Saori crossed her arms over her chest.  “Tell me he didn’t challenge Gunnar-san to a manliness contest?”

Fai shrugged.  “All right.  I won’t.”

She groaned.

“Manliness contest?” Bas echoed.  “Well, no way on earth Gunnar’ll win anything like that . . .”

Saori opened her mouth to argue with Bas’ assertion.  Then she cocked her head to the side.  “Oh, I don’t know, Bas-san . . . I mean, he’s been able to go drink-for-drink so far . . .”

“That’s the contest?” Bas queried, arching a golden brow to emphasize his point.

She nodded.

Bas seemed to consider it for all of ten seconds.  Then he nodded at Fai and strode toward the doors.

“I feel like this is a really bad idea,” Fai remarked, though he made no move to intercept the big man.

“Probably,” she replied.

“Well, Sebastian _is_ bigger than Mamoruzen,” Kagura mused thoughtfully.  “He should be able to hold his own.”

Saori giggled, winking at Fai when he shot her a very droll look.

Nezumi heaved a sigh.  “Oh, and there goes Ryo . . . That can’t be good,” she muttered, slowly shaking her head.  “And, of course, anything Ryo can do, Kichiro can do better . . .”

“Hmm, he doesn’t look like he approves of the taste,” Bellaniece remarked, stepping over beside Nezumi to gaze out the window, too.

Nezumi grimaced.  “I really didn’t need to see that . . .”

“Who got pantsed this time?” Kagura asked rather dryly from her seat at the table.

“Toga-oji-chan,” Saori replied, just before smashing her hand over her mouth to stifle a round of giggles as she whipped to the side to avoid seeing more than she already had.  True to form, the baka twins had rounded on their cousin, neatly pantsing him in one fluid motion.

Kagura heaved a sigh and said nothing.  Saori didn’t miss the way the corners of her lips were twitching, though, as she lifted a delicate mug of tea.

Fai snorted indelicately, narrowed his eyes and shook his head as he watched the antics continuing outside, but when she glanced at him a moment later, he was smiling just a little . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Fai leaned back in the desk chair, scowling at Sesshoumaru as the Inu no Taisho settled into the chair across from him, amber eyes taking on a magnified glow.  They were the only ones in the office.  Fai was actually on his way out of the room for the night when Sesshoumaru had approached him, asked him if he had a moment to speak.

So, they’d retired to the privacy of Fai’s office, but just now . . .

Letting out a deep breath, Fai slowly shook his head.  “You know what you’re saying,” he finally said as he slowly started to get a full grasp on the things that Sesshoumaru had said.  “Of course, you do,” he muttered.  “Damn . . .”

“I would not have brought this to your attention if I wasn’t absolutely certain, Faine,” Sesshoumaru said.  “He was known to be posing a threat back in your father’s time, too.”

Standing up so abruptly that the chair scraped back and almost tipped over, Fai strode over to the wet bar, sloshing vodka into a glass.  He started to head back, but thought better of it, tipping it back, emptying the glass before refilling it again.  “I should have known,” he growled, filling a glass for Sesshoumaru.  “I cannot remember Father ever speaking of him, and I don’t remember him ever visiting.  Granted, I was away at boarding school and later, college . . .” Setting the glass on the desk before the Inu no Taisho, Fai uttered a terse growl as he paced the floor, unable—unwilling—to sit back down again.  “How could I be so stupid?  So gullible?  Accepting his story at face-value?  I—”

“He wanted to convince you, Faine . . . And he did.  You cannot fault yourself for . . . perhaps _needing_ to believe him.  At that time . . . Your mother had died; your father had just disappeared . . . You were dropped into your office and left to sink or swim.  Perhaps you simply needed someone to believe in.  it’s just that simple.  Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Fai blinked, scowled at Sesshoumaru.  The being who was well known for being terse, even cold . . . It was almost as though he were trying to . . . to comfort Fai . . .?  “But I haven’t done that with anyone else.  Trust them right off?”

“Maybe therein lies your problem.”

Fai shot Sesshoumaru a withering glower.  “What do you mean?”

The Inu no Taisho slowly shook his head.  “It was not a criticism, Faine,” he pointed out.  “It’s a lesson I’ve learned over the years, too.”

Fai snorted.  “You?  You, more than anyone, rely upon no one.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Sesshoumaru stated simply.  “It may seem otherwise, but I assure you, I do have my own trusted circle.  It is just very limited.”

Fai wasn’t sure what to say to that.  To be perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure what he thought about anything anymore; not really.

Sesshoumaru exhaled sharply.  It wasn’t a sigh, per se, but . . . “To be tai-youkai is to be alone.  That’s what your father told you, and, to some extent, it’s true.  After all, the decisions you must make are entirely at your discretion.  No one else can carry that burden for you . . . However, if you can find a few whom you can trust implicitly?  Then do so—and defend those few with everything you have.”

Fai grimaced, desperately wanting to smash something.  He restrained himself—barely.  “Trust . . .” he echoed, his emotions spiking, spiraling in such an ugly way.  “Isn’t that what got me into this mess, to start with?”

Sesshoumaru reached forward, took the glass, stared at the liquid inside for an inordinately long time as he considered Fai’s words.  “You live, and you learn, but it’s what you make of the lessons that define who you are . . .” he remarked quietly.  “That’s the way of it, and it has always been so.  If it means anything to you, however . . . Konstantin . . . I believe you can trust him—perhaps not his liquor . . . He, you understand, is easy to read.  He is one you can have faith in.”  He downed the vodka and set the glass back down once more as he rose to his feet.  “Your mother’s label has always been an impeccable brand,” he said, nodding at the empty glass.  “By the way, Saori has always been a good judge of character, as well.”

“Except when she doesn’t want to tell me things because she thinks it’ll . . . hurt me . . .” he muttered, still unable to shake the irritation that she hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about Evgeni sooner.

Sesshoumaru nodded slowly.  “I have found over time that there are instances where Kagura has told me things in a much subtler way.  All you have to do is to pay attention to what she _isn’t_ saying at those times—when she smiles, and you can see the shadows, lingering in her gaze, even when she tells you that there is nothing amiss at all . . . We have mates for a reason.  They often see the things we can’t—or don’t want—to see . . . and in many ways, Saori has always been more like Kagura than anyone else.  Both of them have the gift of sight, you see.  They can see past the exterior to what’s lingering in those hidden places, deep inside.  I imagine it’s ultimately what Saori first saw in you, Faine.  Kagura . . . She did the same thing with me, back in the beginning.  It isn’t a bad thing.”

Fai sighed, shaking his head as he slowly turned, met Sesshoumaru’s steady gaze.  “And how, exactly, am I supposed to protect her when I can’t even see a snake when he’s right in front of me?”

Sesshoumaru headed toward the door in his slow, sweeping gait.  He stopped, though, with his hand on the door handle, peering over his shoulder at Fai once more.  He stared at him for several moments.  Then he gave one curt nod, as though he’d figured something out, but whatever it was, Fai had no idea.  “Again, you’ve entirely missed the point.”

“Then what _is_ the point?” Fai growled, hating the constant feeling as though he were being tested—and failing miserably.  “You say these things, and I—”

He cut Fai off with a narrowing of his gaze, with an almost imperceptible shake of his head.  As subtle as he was, his every movement held value.  It was an art that the man had developed—the reason why he was the undisputed leader of them all, maybe . . . “It isn’t about you, protecting her, Faine, nor is it about you, being perfect.  The point is that you protect each other.  Perhaps you’re stronger, but I promise you, she is likely wiser, and that is the way of it.  Do not presume that simply because you can win against your enemies that she should not be heard.  That is how mates protect each other—in every possibly way.  You should know that.  Don’t make the mistake of thinking that she didn’t protect you now.  Just . . . return the favor every day . . . for the rest of your lives.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Thanks to the few of you who bothered to comment.  Greatly appreciated!  It’s hard to keep posting when people don’t let me know how I’m doing with the story.  It’s too bad.  I was looking forward to writing Purity Zero after this.  If the interest’s not there, though, then there’s kind of no point_ …
> 
>  
> 
>  ** _Svideteli_** : _The best man_.  
>  ** _Kongousouha_** _: Diamond Spear Blast, aka Adamant Barrage_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Sora
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— Amanda Gauger
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _Evgeni_ …


	57. 56: The Summit

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_56_** ~~  
~ ** _The Summit_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“Oh . . . _Oh-h-h-h_ . . . _m-m-m-my_ . . .”

“Hmm . . . _wow_ . . .”

“Is it . . . hot in here . . .?”

“I prefer my puppy, but _that_ puppy . . .?”

“He’s like . . . walking, talking porn . . .”

“Porn, indeed . . . More like a very classy, artsy independent film, if you ask me . . .”

“Oh, so _he’s_ why Toga never lets me come to these meetings with him . . .”

“Can you blame him?  He’s delicious.  I think need a spoon . . .”

“What did I tell you?  The sex-bomb of the tai-youkai . . .”

“ _Kaa-chan!_ ”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Oh, nope, not wrong . . . Not wrong, at all . . .”

Across the room where the men were gathered with glasses of drinks and talking amongst themselves, Rinji rolled his eyes and slowly shook his head as he leaned toward Fai.  “Do you have flood insurance, Fai-sama?”

“Flood insurance?” he echoed, casting Rinji a questioning glance as he swirled a glass of cachaça—a distilled spirit made from sugarcane juice—in his hand.  Eduardo St. George, the South American tai-youkai, had been good enough to bring a case of the stuff.  It wasn’t Demyanov vodka, but it was good.

Rinji snorted indelicately.  “If I’m not mistaken, every last woman over there is eyeballing St. George-sama.  At the rate they’re going, they’re going to drool you out of house and home . . .”

Fain grunted, eyes narrowing as he sought out Saori, who, along with the rest of them, were, in fact, staring rather shamelessly at the South American tai-youkai.  “Happens every time,” Fai muttered, shaking his head.

“Seems a little unnatural, don’t you think?”

Toga overheard the conversation and nudged Fai’s arm.  “Well, they say he’s part siren, so not nearly as unnatural as it might be otherwise.  Besides, St. George isn’t actually the one you should worry about.”

“Oh?”

The Japanese tai-youkai shook his head, nodding at the man who was being led into the room by the butler.  A new arrival, certainly.  Fai’s eyes widened, then narrowed.  Tall, broad, though not bulky, the same nearly black hair as St. George, the same blue eyes so dark that they were very nearly black, but he was younger, definitely more boyish-looking by comparison, and, where St. George seemed to exude more of a feral, almost electric, type air, the younger one, with his easy smile and engaging aura, seemed a lot more approachable, overall, and that combination . . .

“His son, Niven, the future South American tai-youkai,” Toga supplied.  “Usually, he doesn’t come to these summits.  I’ve only met him once before, actually, when he and Eduardo-san came to Japan to see otou-san.  If memory serves, he hit on Mikio at the time . . .”

Glancing at the women once more, Fai grunted and rolled his eyes.  The chattering had ground to a screeching halt over there as all of them—even Saori—just stared, utterly dumbfounded.  It just figured . . . “Hit on Mikio?” he echoed, shaking his head since the meaning of the phrase escaped him.

“Grabbed his ass is probably a better way to describe it.  Poor Mikio turned about twenty shades of red, and then some, if I recall . . .”

Fai shook his head.  “Who is Mikio?”

Toga chuckled.  “Yasha-jiji’s youngest son.”

“Is he gay?” Rinji asked, arching an eyebrow at his uncle, jerking his head toward Niven, who was currently being introduced to the African tai-youkai.

Toga shrugged again.  “Nope . . . Well, not really.  Eduardo-san told me once that he is a lover of beings—that he’s attracted to souls, that it doesn’t matter if the body is male or female, so I’d guess that his son is probably the same way.”  He chuckled.  “Not sure if I understand it completely, but if it works for them, then I can’t really say much about it.”

Fai snorted.  “Sounds odd, if you ask me . . .”

“Don’t worry, Fai,” Cain Zelig, the North American tai-youkai, remarked with a chuckle, accurately interpreting just what was going on.  “I’m sure Saori will be able to drag her attention off of them long enough to marry you.  Maybe.”

“Don’t worry about Saori, Cain,” Fai shot back pleasantly.  “If I were you, I’d be more worried about the idea that my mate hasn’t blinked even once in ten minutes . . .”

Cain snorted.  “Pfft!  She just did.”

“Keh!  The fuck is going on over there?” InuYasha growled, stomping up beside them, arms crossed over his chest as he glowered at the debacle that was unfolding on the other side of the room.  He didn’t stop moving, heading toward the women instead—or one woman in particular, anyway.  “Oi!  Wench!  What the hell are you doing?”

“On the bright side, at least Konstantin hasn’t showed up again with that damned jug of his,” Rinji muttered.

Bas grunted since he had spent the bulk of the morning, nursing a very sore head . . . “That stuff should be illegal,” he grumbled.  “Manly, my ass . . .”

Gunnar smiled just a little.  “That’s what you get for letting that bear goad you into a drinking contest.  He’s probably drank that crap from his bottle as an infant.  Did you honestly think that you’d actually win that contest?”

Bas snorted.  “Shut up, Gunsie.”

Shaking his head at the normal banter passing between the heirs to their respective regions, Fai sipped his drink.  He opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it closed when Yerik strode into the room.  His younger brother spotted him, started toward him, only to stop abruptly when Niven stepped into his path.  He leaned over, whispered something to Yerik that made Yerik blink and . . . and blush . . .?

“Excuse me,” Fai remarked, heading over to save Yerik, who looked entirely shaken by whatever it was Niven had said . . .

“Yerik . . .” Fai said as he closed in on them.

If it weren’t such an awkward situation, Fai might well have laughed at the instant and immediate relief evident on his brother’s face.  “Fai!  Hey, uh . . . O-O-Oh, this is . . .” Trailing off, Yerik grimaced as he glanced at Niven, who was even more ridiculously beautiful up close—beautiful enough to give Fai a moment’s pause, too . . . “I-I-I’m sorry . . . I didn’t catch your name . . .”

Niven chuckled, and the sound of it was akin to a warm caress.  A second later, Fai gave himself a mental shake, scowling at his own stupid reaction.  “I apologize,” he drawled, his voice possessing an almost lyrical kind of accent that only lent more of a strange sort of power to his presence as a whole.  “You are Yerik, I see . . . I am Niven St. George.”

“N-Niven,” Yerik repeated, his initial discomfort, fading fast as he stared at the heir to the South American tai-youkaiship.  “Pleased . . . Pleased to meet you . . .”

“Oh, no, _gostoso_ . . . The pleasure is all mine . . .”

Fai blinked when Niven reached out, cupped Yerik’s cheek in his hand, slowly caressing him, and Yerik just stood there, staring at Niven in an entirely fascinated kind of way . . . Fai cleared his throat, and Niven chuckled as his hand dropped away.  “If you’ll excuse us,” Fai said, grabbing Yerik’s arm.  “There are a couple things that I needed to talk to my brother about.”

“He’s part siren, Yerik,” Fai remarked as he led Yerik down the hallway toward his office.

Yerik shook his head, uttered a terse chuckle that sounded entirely forced.  “W—I—I-I just met him, and . . . I mean, I don’t—”

Fai held up a hand to stop Yerik’s protests, stepping into the office and closing the door behind them.  “I’m not telling you that you can’t do . . . whatever you want to do . . . I’m just telling to that . . . whatever you do, make sure it’s not just because he’s a siren, and you can’t ignore his, uh, _song_ . . .”

Yerik grimaced, crossing his arms over his chest.  “I . . . I don’t even know what just happened.”

Fai shrugged.  “If you’re not interested, then I suggest that you stay away from him.  That’s all.”

Yerik nodded slowly, but his frown was more confused than anything, and Fai sighed.  “You can do whatever you’re comfortable doing, you know.  I won’t ask, and I won’t judge you.  You know that.  Besides, Toga told me that the St. Georges . . . They have kind of a different view on things, and I guess it makes sense on some level.  Just because you’re . . . attracted to someone doesn’t mean anything other than that you’re attracted to them, female or male.  Now, I can’t say I’ve ever been . . . attracted to a man, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen.”

Yerik rolled his eyes.  “I didn’t say—”

Fai handed his brother a glass of vodka.  He was still drinking the cachaça.  “I didn’t, either.  I just wanted you to know.  Now, if we’re done with that . . . I have a job for you, but you don’t have to worry about it until after the wedding.”

“Okay . . .”

Satisfied that Yerik was listening, he nodded.  “There was a report from a hospital in Romania—something about a man who was admitted, suffering from a rather suspicious condition, and that he was apparently going on and on about . . . some questionable things.  Anyway, they say he’s been stabilized and transferred to a psychiatric facility, so I’d like you to go there, interview the guy . . . See if there’s any truth to his claims.”

Yerik grunted.  “What kind of questionable things?”

Fai shook his head, grabbing a sheet of paper off the desk and handing it over to Yerik.  “Things that humans shouldn’t know a thing about,” he muttered.  “Anyway, I need you to go there and talk to the guy.  Not a hunt, exactly, but the regent of the area’s also mysteriously gone missing, so I don’t really have a choice but to send someone in.”

Frowning as he read over the document, he nodded slowly.  “Damn . . . and you think . . .?”

“I’m not jumping to conclusions,” Fai replied.  “At least, not until I’ve gotten more information.”

A soft knock on the door drew their attention, and Fai started to smile, albeit wanly, when Yerik chuckled and handed the report back to his brother.  “That knock sounds awfully familiar,” he remarked, raising his eyebrows as he headed for the door.  “If you’re looking to steal her away for a few minutes, then you’d better lock the door.”

“Get out of here,” Fai growled, despite the smile on his face.

Yerik opened the door and ruffled Saori’s hair as he slipped past her.

“He’s in a good mood,” she remarked.  “Dmitri called.  He said that the children were enjoying the hotel and that the staff has been extra nice to them.  They even arranged an ice cream party for them . . .”

He nodded.  It had been decided that it would be in the children’s best interests to stay at the hotel where the potential adopters were also arriving, giving them all a little more bonding time together along with the staff that would be watching and making preliminary reports about how well the would-be families were doing.  They’d all stay there together for the next week, getting to know one another before any permanent decisions were made.  “Good.”

Her gentle smile died away, and she cleared her throat.  “Anyway, it’s about time . . . Assuming you still want to do it now?”

Fai stood up.  “Your uncle’s ready?”

She nodded, and he frowned when she rubbed her hands in an almost nervous kind of way.  “Saori?”

“Oh, hmm?”

“You . . . You do want to do this, don’t you?” he asked gently.  “You’re not suddenly deciding that we’re wrong, after all, because of Eduardo and Niven, right?”

She blinked, her expression surprised, for just a moment before she rolled her eyes.  “No!  I just . . .” She grimaced.  “I’ve just never been that fond of needles; that’s all.”

He frowned thoughtfully.  “Well, strictly speaking, we don’t really have to do this . . . I mean, we’re both youkai, so . . .”

She shook her head.  “Ojii-chan said before that it’s very important, especially if your mate is a tai-youkai.”  She smiled, but she couldn’t quite shake the lingering hint of anxiety that brightened her gaze.  “I’ll be fine!  Besides, you’ll be there with me.”

He really didn’t know what to say to that.  Of course, he would be, but he also hated to see that trace fear in her expression, too, even if the benefits would outweigh the risks in this situation . . . “I won’t leave your side,” he promised.

Reaching up, she brushed his hair back out of his eyes, managed a smile that was a little closer to what it ought to be.  “All right.  Let’s do this,” she said.  “And then, tomorrow . . .”

He finally chuckled, taking her hand, sparing a moment to kiss her knuckles before tugging her out of the office.  “Tomorrow, we’ll be married,” he said.  To be honest, he couldn’t wait to have it all over and done with.  He wanted to marry her, certainly, but he had to admit that the lead-up was just a little too much for him, too . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Saori slowly opened her eyes, blinked as she tried to regain her bearings in the dimmed bedroom.  Someone had drawn the curtains to block out the harsh daylight, and she was thankful for that since her head felt just a little fuzzy, likely from the mild tranquilizer that Kichiro-oji-chan had dosed her with when she’d started to freak out at the sight of the transfusion kit.  Fai was the one who had asked him to give it to her—something he said he’d never done during a marking before.  But, after a moment of deliberation, he had decided that it would be fine as long as he kept a close eye on her, which was just as well, given that Fai’s mark . . .

A suffusion of blood shot to her cheeks as she bit her lip and rubbed her right breast just over the nipple—the mark that tingled on her skin as it formed.  Trying not to look at that the whole time would have been daunting, at best.  Fai hadn’t looked at her when he’d told Kichiro where the mark was to be, and she winced, then giggled to herself.

Fai was still asleep beside her, a bandage on his arm where he’d been hooked up to the transfusion kit.  Turned on his side, facing her, he snored lightly as she leaned up on her elbow slowly, cautiously, and gently ruffled his hair.

He was a little pale, she thought, maybe a little drawn.  Otherwise, he seemed no worse for wear, and she let out a relieved sigh.

‘ _Congratulations, Saori . . . You’re officially mates now._ ’

‘ _Mates . . ._ ’

‘ _Sounds good, doesn’t it?_ ’

She bit her lip.  ‘ _It . . . It really does . . ._ ’

‘ _What are the odds we could convince him to finish the job tonight instead of waiting for tomorrow night?_ ’

Those words drew a soft giggle from her as well as a light blush, and she lay back down, snuggling against Fai’s chest.  Maybe it was her imagination, but she could swear that the sound of his heartbeat was louder in her ears, almost like she could feel it . . . It gave her a sense of incredible peace, as though nothing in the world could touch her, hurt her, ever again, as long as Fai was there with her . . .

The door opened, and Rinji stuck his head into the room.  When he spotted her, he smiled, but he still looked just a little anxious as he slipped inside and quietly closed the door.  “How are you feeling?” he asked her, holding out a glass of orange juice.

She sat up, still careful not to disturb Fai, and took the glass, wrinkling her nose at the slight sourness that hid below the inherent sweetness of the fruity juice.  “I feel good,” she replied.

Rinji chuckled.  “How good?”

“Pretty much normal, actually . . .”

He seemed inordinately pleased by this, and he grinned, but it wasn’t his normal, good-natured grin, either.  No, it was almost a little . . . dark . . .? “You know, Kichiro-oji said that your mate was too preoccupied, fretting over you, to drink the juice he was given.  He might well be out for quite some time . . .”

And just why did that sound entirely ominous . . .?  “Why do you say it that way?”

His only real answer was a rather deep chuckle.

For some reason, the expression on his face . . . She narrowed her eyes.  “What are you up to, nii-chan?”

He shrugged and reached for her hand.  She wasn’t entirely sure if she should trust him or not, but she let pull her to her feet.  “What are we doing?” she asked quietly, glancing back at Fai, who still hadn’t moved.

Rinji shook his head and tugged her out of the room, into the antechamber.

She stopped short, eyebrows lifting as she shifted her gaze from her grandfather to her grandmother.  “Is something wrong?”

Kagura laughed.  “Well, I realize that the whole idea of the bridal kidnapping really doesn’t usually happen till the day of your wedding, but we thought that we’d get an early start on it.”  She shook her head.  “Russians are a strange people . . .”

Saori giggled, only to cover her lips, her mouth dropping open as Sesshoumaru held open the door and gestured for her to step through.

She did, even though she had to wonder if Fai wasn’t going to freak out when he did manage to wake up . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Gostoso_** _: Brazilian (Portuguese) meaning “tasty” and should really either be spoken in private between lovers or with a very teasing tone (between lovers) … Niven has no shame.  Lol_!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Denyell ——— poohbearlou
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— Monsterkittie ——— NyteAngel ——— Alice ——— Linx
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lovethedogs ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _I’ve been appropriated_!


	58. 57: Kidnapped

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_57_** ~~  
~ ** _Kidnapped_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori gripped her stomach as she doubled over, tears running down her cheeks as she gasped for breath and tried to get a handle on the laughter that she couldn’t control.  She couldn’t help it.  It was the funniest thing that she’d ever seen, and, at the risk of offending anyone, _we-e-e-ell_ . . .

“Explain to me again, just why the fuck he’s wearing that,” InuYasha growled, waving a hand at Rinji.

Kagome’s lips twitched over the rim of her cup of tea.  “Oh, I don’t know, InuYasha . . . You know, maybe you should take his place.  I mean, he’s kind of too tall . . .”

“Keh!” InuYasha snorted indelicately.  “Wench!”

“No one else is going to see this, are they?” Rinji asked.

“What?  Do you think someone’s going to record it and upload it to Youtube?” Seiji countered.  “We don’t really have any other choice.  I mean, it’s _tradition_ . . .”  Tapping an articulated claw against his chin thoughtfully, he chuckled.  “Aiko, do you have your phone handy?”

“Absolutely not,” Rinji snorted.  “No videos _or_ pictures.  Anyway, kaa-san could take my place—or obaa-san . . .”

Aiko laughed.  “It said in the book that it should be the most ridiculous replacement, so that’s why . . .”

Rinji sighed, fussing with the long and cumbersome skirts of the antique wedding dress that Vasili had produced for them.  That it was actually long enough to brush the floor on her really tall brother was astonishing enough.  That Rinji actually didn’t look terrible in drag?  Well, that was something she had opted to keep to herself . . .

Saori stood up and eyed her brother critically, arms crossed over her chest as she slowly stepped toward him.  Then she reached out, grabbed his makeshift breasts, and shoved the right one up and pulled the left one down.  “Sorry, nii-chan . . . You were a little lopsided.”

“Thanks, Saori,” he grumbled, pinking cheeks entirely visible under the thick lace veil.

“Fucking bent,” InuYasha growled.

Sesshoumaru glanced up from the magazine he was leafing through on his e-reader.  “I confess, this is a strange tradition,” he mused.  “You aren’t wearing heels, are you, Rinji?”

Rinji growled, low in his throat.  “I feel so stupid . . .”

Kagura, to her credit, was trying not to laugh.  “Oh, I don’t know, Rinji . . . You should feel pretty—like the song . . .”

“Obaa-san . . .”

Saori burst into another round of laughter, mostly because her poor brother did really look quite ridiculous.

But the old Russian tradition was that she had to be kidnapped until Fai came to pay the ransom—whatever ransom her family deemed appropriate—and then, he’d be given his ‘bride’, but not the right bride.  That it was supposed to be a really ridiculous bride that the groom was then obligated to pretend to believe was the right one until he lifted the veil . . . Well, that’s how Rinji got suckered into it . . .

“You realize, right, that there’s a good chance that Faine has not woken up yet,” Sesshoumaru pointed out.  Last time anyone had checked, which was the middle of the night, Fai was, indeed, still sleeping it off, and that was hours ago.  The sun had just risen over the eastern horizon, and the wedding was mere hours away—if Fai woke up, that was, and if he decided to cooperate with tradition and come to claim her beforehand . . .

A very loud bellow echoed through the room from somewhere in the distance, and this time, Kagura’s lips twitched.  “Oh, I think he’s quite awake,” she remarked.

Aiko crept over, cracked open the door to the room they’d commandeered on the sixth story of the castle’s western tower to peer out into the winding stairway below.  They all heard the ruckus going on below since the entire staircase was manned by pretty much all of the houseguests—all of whom were being made to ask ridiculous questions or to demand small bribes to allow the passage through the maze of furniture and whatever else they’d found to construct barriers to block Fai’s passage.

Saori giggled.  “If he doesn’t have cash on hand, will they accept IOUs?”

InuYasha grunted.  “I could take it out of his hide,” he offered.

Saori rolled her eyes since she wasn’t entirely sure, whether or not her uncle was joking . . .

 

* * *

 

“Okay, Fai, tell me: where are your mate’s crests?”

“Oh, that’s an easy question, Zelig-sensei!” Gin Zelig complained.

Cain shrugged.  “Maybe— _if_ he knows the answer.”

Fai rolled his eyes, rubbing his forehead since he was still feeling a little run-down.  He’d be lying if he were to say that he wasn’t expecting something like this.  He was, however, hoping that they’d forego the nonsense.  No such luck . . . “She has a faint crescent moon on the back of her left ankle,” he replied.  The first time he’d noticed it, he’d thought that it was a scar or a birthmark since it was such a pale, almost white, color.  Then he’d realized later that it had to be her crest.

Cain shrugged.  “Sorry, Fai.  That’s just a scar.”

Fai grunted.  “It is not!”

Cain broke into a good-natured grin as he stepped back out of the path.  “You’re right.  It’s not.”

Fai stifled a sigh as he continued up the stairs.  He was about halfway to the top, having already managed to get past the other tai-youkai below.  In his opinion, the others were having entirely too much fun with this whole thing, and he shook his head when he hit the next landing, only to find a grinning Yerik waiting for him.

“All right, brother,” Yerik drawled, pushing himself away from the wall where he’d been lounging, stepping over to block the opening between a couple very large wardrobes.  “My question for you is, if a train leaves London heading north at—”

“Yerik!” Fai growled.

His brother relented with a chuckle.  “Okay, then.  Is it true that you had to mark her on her breast?”

He couldn’t contain the violent explosion of color under his skin, which only made Yerik laugh harder as he stepped aside to allow Fai to pass.

Just before the next landing, he found Ryomaru and his mate, Nezumi waiting for him, and he smothered the urge to sigh.  “All right.  What kind of ‘None-Of-Your-Damn-Business’ question do you have?” he asked.

Ryomaru crossed his arms over his chest and broke into the widest, shittiest grin he could possibly manage.  Beside him, his very pretty mate heaved a sigh.  “All right, Fai-sama,” the hanyou positively gloated.  “Admit that kelp is the key to a perfect borscht or you don’t fucking pass!”

“ _What?_ ” Fai bellowed.

“As loudly as you can, _Your Grace_ ,” Ryomaru added for good measure.

Erupting in a growl that he just couldn’t restrain, Fai glowered at Saori’s irritating uncle.

‘ _Eyes on the prize, Fai . . . We want—we_ need _—to marry that woman,_ ’ his youkai pointed out before Fai lost his temper completely.

‘ _Did you hear what he just said?  Did you hear what he wants_ me _to say?_ ’

‘ _Yeah, I did, and who cares?  They’ll go home, you know, and then you can make your borscht any way you damn well please!  So, just say it so we can get a move on!_ ’

‘ _Maybe you didn’t hear me right!  He wants me to—_ ’

‘ _Yeah, I heard you, and you realize, right?  The official is going to be here in less than two hours, which means, if you don’t get up these stairs, pay the ransom to get your bride, make a good show of figuring out that they didn’t give you your bride, and repeat the process, we’re going to have a very angry official who will probably never agree to do another home visit as a special favor to you, ever, ever again!  Now, open your mouth, spit it out, and let’s get the hell on with it!_ ’

Fai snapped his mouth closed on his retort and heaved a very loud sigh designed to let Ryomaru know just how much of an ass Fai really thought that he was.  “The key to a perfect . . . borscht . . . is . . . kelp,” he growled under his breath.

“What’s that?  I didn’t hear you, Fai-sama.  Yell it loud or you don’t fucking pass.”

“Damn it . . .”

“Time’s a-wastin’ . . .”

Fai sighed again.  “ _The key to a perfect borscht is . . . fucking kelp!_ ” Fai bellowed.

Ryomaru’s grin widened even more—ass that he was—but he moved aside when his mate, rolling her eyes, gave him a good shove.

Stomping past him, Fai snorted.  “ _I lied, damn it!_ ” he snarled as loudly as he could and without stopping as he broke for the stairs once more.  “ _Kelp in borscht is not a Russian dish!  Only outsiders like you think it’s good, and you eat raw fish on a regular basis, so your opinion of good food is moot!_ ”

Ryomaru’s laughter escalated, and somehow, Fai couldn’t help feeling like he hadn’t won that battle, at all . . .

“Wow . . . Ryo really got to you, didn’t he?”

Heaving another sigh as he stopped before Toga and Sierra’s blockade, Fai slowly shook his head and jerked his fingers to move the Japanese tai-youkai along.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Toga frowned, despite the smile, quirking his lips.  “Here’s the thing, Fai-san . . . I like you.  I do.  I mean, I don’t know you very well, but what I do know of you tells me that you’re an upstanding guy—a really nice guy.  Having said that . . . Well, I—Sierra, here, and I . . . We really love Saori . . . She’s like another of our children—our daughters—I have four of my own, by the way.  Did you know that?  Four precious little girls—I mean, I guess they’re not little girls anymore.  They’re grown women.  Anyway, Saori . . . She’s one of my adorable sisters’ _baby_ . . . I feel like I’d be doing her a great disservice if I were to just stand aside and allow you to pass . . . Perhaps I could be convinced if you’d like to pledge a sizeable donation to our family’s charitable causes?”

“Oh, that was pretty good, Toga,” Sierra remarked, casting her husband a very appreciative smile.  “A little long-winded, but good!”

Fai snorted.  “Fine.  Can we discuss it after the wedding?”

Toga chuckled.  “I think that’ll be great,” he remarked, inclining his head in a quick bow before stepping out of the way.

Fai grunted and turned his body to the side to squeeze through the smaller opening in the physical barrier comprised of furniture.  “You should ask Saori later about her theory on why you failed to have an heir for so long,” he couldn’t help tossing back over his shoulder.  “It’s _fascinating_ . . .”

‘ _Okay, focus, Fai.  I mean, we’re almost there, right?  Who else is left . . .?_ ’

He sighed as he stomped up the staircase.  He wasn’t entirely sure, who was left, but, given that he still was feeling a little off from marking Saori last evening, his patience was dwindling fast.  He supposed, in hindsight, he should have paid more attention when Kichiro had given him a pitcher of orange juice and told him he’d better start drinking.  He didn’t since he was too preoccupied, watching her, trying to make sure that she was all right . . . That sickly pallor that had crept over her skin was frightening, no doubt about it.  To drain her blood to nearly fatal levels, only to replace her blood with his . . .? He hadn’t realized what that would look like—not until he’d actually witnessed it, first hand . . .

And then, he’d woken up with Konstantin, pounding on his bedroom door and no Saori to be found . . .

It figured, didn’t it?  At the rate he was going, he was never going to get married today . . .

“Well, hello, there . . . Fai-sama, isn’t it?  Guess we weren’t properly introduced.”

Stopping short, frowning at the russet-haired kitsune and the raven-haired human woman, Fai slowly shook his head.  No, he couldn’t quite remember those two, either . . . “Who . . . are you?”

The woman giggled.  “I’m Rin—Toga and Aiko’s eldest sister,” she supplied.  “This is my mate, Shippou.  We got here last night while you were marking Saori-chan . . .” she supplied.

“Yeah, about that,” Shippou remarked, digging his hands, deep into the pockets of his hopelessly expensive slacks.  “She’s very precious to us, you know—almost like a collective daughter.  So, in the interest of this little game you Russians seem to think is fun, I’d like to know just why you think that you’re good enough to be our Saori’s mate?”

“Well, Shippou, you know, he is a tai-youkai, so that should count for something,” Rin remarked thoughtfully, entirely ignoring Fai like he wasn’t even there.

“True enough, but you saw what happened when Gin married the one across the big water.  They ended up, making Evan, and we cannot let that happen again . . .”

“He’s not that bad,” Rin protested, covering her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Shippou grunted.  “He was just arrested in Amsterdam for exposing himself to a crowd of a hundred thousand, Rin—then he told them that it wasn’t his fault, that his pants just, ‘fell on their own’ . . .”

She sighed.  “Oh, yeah, there’s that, I suppose . . .”

“Anyway,” the kitsune went on, “we have to make sure that this doesn’t happen again.  After all, Saori’s as innocent and pure as Gin . . . _used_ to be . . . so any real perversion is going to come from—” he jerked his head at Fai, “—him.”

Fai rolled his eyes, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest.  “You realize, don’t you, that your sweet and innocent Saori _appropriated_ me within minutes of our initial meeting,” he pointed out.

Shippou grinned.  “Yeah, I do!  Totally awesome, really, but I gotta tell you, it doesn’t speak well of your ability to protect her if you can’t even protect yourself _from_ her . . .”

Fai sighed, rubbing his forehead as he tried to remind himself that losing his patience with his potential wife’s family would be a bad way to start things out.  “I think that the question of whether or not I’m good enough for Saori would be something you’d have to ask her,” he pointed out.  “She seems to think that I am.”

“Yeah, but she’s always loved pretty things, and you kind of fit into that category,” Shippou remarked.  “So, in your opinion, what do you have to recommend yourself, as far as mates go?”

Narrowing his eyes on the kitsune, shook his head.  “I love her—everything about her— _everything_.  Is that not enough?”

Shippou opened his mouth to respond to that, but snapped it closed with a sigh.  “Damn,” he muttered, shaking his head.  “Yeah, I guess it is.”

They stepped back to allow Fai to pass.  Rin giggled, leaning up to kiss her mate on the cheek to console him for giving in so easily.

When he stepped onto the next landing, Fai stifled a sigh when he came face-to-face with a grinning Kichiro Izayoi and his mate, Bellaniece.

“You look a little peeked,” Kichiro remarked pleasantly.  “Didn’t drink your juice like I told you to, huh?”

“Hmm, do you think he’ll be up to performing his husbandly duties tonight?” Bellaniece nearly purred into her mate’s ear.

Kichiro chuckled.  “Not my problem, princess,” he told her.  “Though Saori might be pretty disappointed if he can’t . . .”

Bellaniece giggled.  “I have to hand it to you, Fai-sama . . . You actually managed to refrain from sex before your wedding?  I can’t think of many who accomplished that . . . I mean, we certainly didn’t . . .”

Kichiro nodded.  “What does that _mean_ , anyway?  Don’t you want my niece, Your Grace?”

Fighting down the livid blush that rushed into his cheeks, Fai snorted.  “Isn’t that how things are supposed to be done?” he growled, unable to repress the defensiveness in his tone.

Kichiro broke into a wide grin.  “It’s how it _should_ be done, yes, but very few of us are able to actually _do_ that . . . unless you’ve had sex and just used condoms . . .?”

“Is that your question?” Fai bit out.

“One of many, I think . . .” Kichiro remarked, idly scratching his chin.

Fai glared at Saori’s beloved uncle.  “No, we haven’t,” he bit out, unable to staunch the blush that rose in his cheeks.

“Wow, lover,” Bellaniece breathed.  “That’s pretty impressive, don’t you think?”

Kichiro shrugged.  “Not sure if I respect him more or less for that,” he admitted.  “In any case, I guess you pass . . . Good luck with the last obstacle, though.  It’s a doozy.”

Stomping past the doctors, Fai didn’t trust himself to reply.  One more obstacle?  Somehow, he felt like this one might well be the worst of them thus far, and, given that the others were all embarrassing on some level, he suspected that this last one might well be one that caused him to completely lose what was left of his temper . . .

Rounding the spiraling staircase, Fai blinked and shook his head when he spotted Sebastian Zelig and Gunnar Inutaisho waiting for him.  There was no barricade on the landing.  Behind them was the door—the room where Saori waited.  There was a table, though, and two chairs, one on each side, and that was enough to make him raise his eyebrows as he stopped and crossed his arms over his chest.  “What’s that?” he asked, nodding at the table.

Bas grinned, but Gunnar was the one who spoke.  “We took a page out of your Siberian bear’s book,” the future Japanese tai-youkai said.  “Have a seat, if you will.”

Smothering a sigh since he saw no way around it, Fai sat down as Gunnar slipped into the chair on the other side of the table.  Bas stepped over, plunking down a large, ornate decanter of something along with two tiny, shallow cups.  “Goal’s simple, Fai.  Match Gunnar, drink for drink, and you’ve passed his challenge.  If you can’t, then . . .” Bas grinned pleasantly, weaving his fingers together and turning his hands, palms out, cracking his knuckles in a rather obscene way.

“You had to choose sake, didn’t you, Bas-tard?” Gunnar muttered.

Bas chuckled.  “Call it payback, Gunsie.”

“Payback?” Fai echoed, shifting his suspect glare from one to the other.

Bas shrugged.  “Lose this round, and you’ll see.”

Gunnar chuckled, too—and why it sounded entirely ominous was entirely beyond Fai . . .

It was simple, wasn’t it?  Just match Gunnar drink for drink?  But Fai hadn’t counted on the idea that the sake in the decanter was more akin to liquid fire, and the first sip had him choking and gasping and pretty well ready to die, and Gunnar?  Damned if he didn’t drain his cup, set it down and just stare at Fai without a change in expression, not even a blink . . .

By the fourth cup, Fai waved his hands, unable to stomach the idea of trying to force down another swallow.  Only then did Gunnar break into the barest hint of a smile as he pushed away from the table and gestured for Bas to take his place.

Fai, however, was too busy, coughing and hacking to pay much attention as Gunnar chuckled rather nastily.  “It’s a new evolution in sake,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over Fai’s coughing.  “They make it with horseradish that they’ve aged for fifty years in giant casks below ground.  To be truthful, I’m impressed that you were able to drink that many of them.”

“Nasty shit,” Bas added, his smile widening as he slowly shook his head.  “You couldn’t pay me to drink that stuff.  No fucking way . . .”

“Thanks,” Fai wheezed out, finally able to sit up straight.  “Save some of that for Konstantin, will you?”

Gunnar smiled rather lazily.  “So, since Bas thought it’d be great to make me drink that junk with you, I decided that for Bas’ part, I’d take advantage of what he does best.  All you have to do to pass this last obstacle is . . . beat that tank in an arm wrestling match.”

Fai blinked, gaze shifting over to meet Bas’, and he sighed.  The man’s arms were easily the size of Saori’s waist, and, while Fai certainly was no slouch, he wasn’t built like a mountain, either . . .

It was actually rather embarrassing.  Ten minutes later, Bas’ arm hadn’t budged at all, and Fai was sweating buckets.  He’d like to blame his inability to move Bas’ arm on the marking process yesterday or even the exertion of being forced to climb the stairs.  There really was no real excuse, however, except that Sebastian Zelig was built like one of Egypt’s great pyramids, and Fai . . . Fai was not . . .

And then, just to make the whole thing that much worse, everyone from the lower areas started to fill the hallway landing, and didn’t that just figure?  Fai tried to ignore them, muscles straining and shaking, as he tried to move Bas’ arm . . .

“Oh, that just doesn’t look fair, now does it?” Yerik remarked.  He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

“If he put kelp in his borscht, he’d have better muscle tone,” Ryomaru added.

“Bastian, if you keep it up, he’ll be too exhausted to do his thing on his wedding night,” Bellaniece intoned for good measure.

“Hmm, my puppy’s so strong!” Sydnie remarked, slipping through the assembly, sidling up behind her mate.  “You could sit there like this all day, couldn’t you, puppy?”

Bas grunted.  True enough, Fai hadn’t been able to move his arm at all, but Bas hadn’t been able to do it to Fai, either.

Sydnie giggled and leaned down.  “Come on, puppy . . . Is this really the best you can do?” she goaded, the hand that rested on his back slowly sliding downward.

All the sudden, Bas barked out a weird kind of half-yelp, his arm slackening just enough that Fai was able to slam it down against the table top.

Gunnar rolled his eyes.  “Kitty, that was entirely unfair,” he muttered, shaking his head as he dropped his arms and stepped back.

Bas’ cheeks were flushed as he shot his mate a chagrined kind of look.  “Sydnie—”

She giggled.  “Was it something I did, puppy?”

He grunted, standing up as his chair groaned against the floor.  “You win, Fai . . . Claim your mate,” he said.

He stifled a sigh as he stood up, wondering vaguely just how offended Saori would be if he told her that he never, ever wanted her family visiting here again . . .

He drew a deep breath as he raised his fist to knock on the door.  He supposed that it’d be too much to hope that they’d just hand her over without a fuss.

The door opened, and, of course, Sesshoumaru peered at him, looking entirely bored.  “Is there something you needed, Faine?”

Fai smothered a sigh.  “I’m here to collect my bride,” he said, as per tradition.

Sesshoumaru considered that.  “And what do you have to offer as her ransom?”

“Your entire damn family,” he growled.

Sesshoumaru almost smiled at that.  He didn’t, but his eyes brightened as he shifted his gaze over Fai’s shoulder at the assembled people on the landing and stairwell.  “I don’t particularly want some of them back,” he remarked in an offhanded kind of way.  “The kitsune in particular . . .”

“Oh, now, that’s cold,” Shippou said with a chuckle.

“Besides,” the Inu no Taisho went on calmly, “they allowed you passage much easier than they should have.  Seems to me that you should have had to fight harder to get past them . . .”

“Do you want a donation to a charity or something?” Fai demanded as his patience threshold shortened dramatically.  “You name it, and I’ll go write the check right now.”

Sesshoumaru considered that, then nodded slowly.  “I’m sure Kagura can make good use of your donation, Faine.”  Peering over his shoulder, he stepped back as someone who was entirely too tall to be Saori but was covered in much too much lace and silk and frills stepped forward.  “Here’s your bride,” he said, shoving the person into the hall and promptly closing the door.

Fai sighed, but played along, tossing the veil up and over the person’s head, only to heave a sigh when Rinji scowled back at him.  “I . . . don’t want to marry you,” Fai remarked dryly.

Rinji snorted as the good-natured jeering began—the catcalls and wolf-whistles that made him blush despite his best efforts to ignore it all.  “Don’t worry, Fai-sama.  You’re a little too . . . male . . . for my tastes, too . . .”

“He looks a lot like Aiko on her wedding day, doesn’t he?”

Rinji made a face as he yanked the veil off of his head.  “Shut up, Shippou-oji-san,” he grumbled.

Thumping on the door again, Fai sighed.

This time, however, the door opened to reveal Seiji, who stood, arms crossed over his chest, and, while he didn’t look unhappy, he did look very, very serious.

Fai cleared his throat.  “I believe you . . . gave me the wrong bride,” he pointed out.

“Did we?” Seiji countered, arching an eyebrow.

Fai nodded.  “I’d like to barter for the real bride, please.”

“What are you offering?”

Fai shook his head, mostly because, with a family as wealthy as hers, money wasn’t really an object.  Still, he really didn’t know what to offer, and therein lay the problem.  “Why don’t you tell me what you want in exchange?” he said.

Seiji considered that for a long moment, then he nodded.  “I’ll tell you want I want—what _we_ want, Fai-sama,” he said, his gaze taking on a gravity that settled into Fai’s very bones.  “It’s very simple, really.  We want your life.”

Fai blinked.  “I beg your pardon?”

Seiji crossed his arms over his chest, gaze narrowing thoughtfully.  “Your life,” he repeated.  “I want you to promise me _on your life_ . . . I want you to swear that you will take care of my daughter as I would.  That you’ll protect her and cherish her and love her with every last breath in your body— _with your life_.”

Fai could feel himself relax a little, felt the smile that came from somewhere deep inside long before it touched his lips.  Beyond her father, he could feel Saori’s youki, reaching out to him, and he spared a moment, allowing his to cosset hers, to buffer hers, as he turned his full attention to Seiji once more.  “You have it,” he replied without hesitation.  “My life . . . My promise . . .”

Only then did Seiji smile as he stepped back to allow his daughter to finally join Fai . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Friday’s chapter a little early… See you on Monday_!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Yashagirl89 ( _I sincerely hope the fam’s okay!  You’re in my thoughts and prayers!_ )
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— minthegreen ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— Amanda Gauger
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18 ——— lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _Can we get married now_ …?


	59. 58: Appropriation

<

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_58_** ~~  
~ ** _Appropriation_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“Are you sure that you wish to spend the rest of your life with someone who took his eyes off of you long enough for you to be kidnapped?”

Blinking, giggling at the teasing lilt in the lyrical voice, Saori shook her head.  “I think it was a set-up,” she remarked, scooting up on the desktop in Fai’s office where her would-be abductor had led her when he’d so neatly nabbed her from the midst of her own wedding party.

Tradition spoke of random kidnappings that should happen throughout the course of the merriment any time the groom happened to let his attention stray from his bride, which, naturally, meant that this was the fourth time since the ceremony that Saori had been dragged off by one person or another, and every time, it was a joint effort by one person who sidetracked Fai very neatly, while someone else took off with her.  She’d already been kidnapped by her father and Bas.  The last time, it was Kichiro and Bellaniece.  This time?  This time, she’d scored the attention of the South American tai-youkai . . .

Eduardo handed her one of the glasses of champagne that he’d nabbed on their way out of the formal dining room.  “May you enjoy a long and prosperous life with Fai,” he said, raising his glass to her.  “May your love be strong, may your trust run deep, and may your every night be filled with lust.”

She giggled at the silly toast but touched her glass to his before sipping.  “I wish you had brought your mate,” she said.  “I would have loved to meet her.”

He chuckled.  The very sound of it was like velvet, gliding over skin, and she shivered.  If he was that ridiculously seductive without trying, just how lethal could that man be if he did try . . .? “I apologize.  Chelressa is on holiday with her lover.”

Saori blinked.  “Her . . .?”

“Lover,” he stated once more, as though it were of no real consequence.  Catching her rather confused look, he chuckled again.  “She is my wife, yes, but we have never been true mates.  She has her distractions, and I have mine.  It works well for us.  At the moment, her distraction is a young marmoset-youkai from Rio . . .”

Shaking her head slowly, she frowned as she tried to make sense of it.  “But . . .”

“Back then, it was seen as a beneficial mating,” he told her.  “Both of our families thought that it would be a powerful merger of our combined strengths, so that is what we did,” he went on almost philosophically.  “We are content.”

Saori bit her lip, fussed with the simple skirt of the gown she’d chosen for her wedding dress.  “But what if you find your true mate?”

He laughed.  “I guess we would—how do you say?  Cross that bridge when we find it?”

Uttering a somewhat reluctant kind of laugh, Saori nodded.  “It just . . . seems a little sad, St. George-sama . . .”

He rolled his eyes at the perceived politeness in her address.  “My name is Eduardo, Saori.  Do feel free to use it.  I don’t stand upon formality, and even if I did, your mate is my equal, yes?  Which means that you are my equal, too.”

The office door smacked open, and a rather irritated looking Fai strode inside.  “That was low of you, Eduardo,” Fai remarked, arching an eyebrow as he stepped between the two, arms crossed over his chest.  “You sent Niven to distract me, just so you could take off with my wife?”  Fai snorted.  “Deplorable . . .”

Eduardo grinned, flashing those ridiculous dimples to his advantage.  “We are playing the game, Fai,” he replied, leaning around the groom to kiss Saori’s hand.  “Congratulations again, Saori.”  He paused long enough to wink at her before letting go of her and sauntering out of the office.

Saori giggled, which earned her a raising of Fai’s eyebrows.  “You didn’t fall for him, did you?” he asked suspiciously.

“Of course not!” she scoffed, cheeks pinking when he took her hands and gently tugged her to her feet.  “I just liked it when you called me your wife; that’s all.”

He seemed to relax just a little as he slipped his arms around her.  “Do you?  Enough to let me sneak you upstairs?  There’s a lock on our door, you know . . .”

“We can’t—Well, but then, there’s plenty of food, and Kostya is doing a good job of keeping everyone entertained, isn’t he . . .?”

Fai chuckled, leaning down to kiss her.  What was meant to be a quick kiss, however, very quickly spun away into something far deeper as he pulled her closer, as he sighed softly against her lips.  The gentle touch rushed through her, the absolute feeling that she was exactly where she wanted to be, was a welcome and beautiful feeling—the steady swell of contentment so humbling and exhilarating that it left her breathless, clinging to him in a bemused kind of way . . .

“Okay, that’ll be enough of that,” Yerik remarked as he marched into the office and pulled Saori away from Fai.  “You get your time later,” he reminded his brother with a bright grin.  “Besides, her father was looking for her, so I offered to come find you.  I figured it’d be less damaging if I found you than him . . .”

Fai snorted, but let Yerik tug Saori toward the door.  She shot him a last, longing glance, and he smiled just a little.

“You know we’re married now.  That means I can kiss Fai any time I want to,” she pointed out almost sullenly.

Yerik chuckled.  “Yes, but it’s your party, you know.”

She heaved a sigh to let him know just how sorely put-upon she was.  It only made him laugh more.  It figured.  “You’re being mean for no good reason . . . You said that I make your brother happy, didn’t you?”

He shook his head.  “I don’t think I like where you’re going with this,” he pointed out.

She giggled.

“I’ll take it from here, Yerik,” Fai said, falling into step beside him as he slipped an arm around her, effectively pulling her away from his brother.  “Go away.”

Yerik rolled his eyes but allowed Fai to lead Saori back toward the dining room.

 

* * *

 

 

Saori sat on the railing, her feet dangling over the side as she sat beside her brother on the balcony of her bedroom.  He’d kidnapped her about five minutes ago, much to her amusement, since he’d enlisted the help of the African tai-youkai’s heir and his twin brother to distract Fai long enough to get Saori out of the grand room—usually the living room that Fai actually rarely used.  The twins—Amon and Raah—had just arrived an hour or so ago, and Rinji had wasted no time in recruiting them to his cause.

“You know, as much as I hate to say it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy, Saori-chan,” Rinji remarked.  Sometime during the afternoon, he’d lost his jacket and tie and had rolled up his sleeves, loosening the top two buttons on his shirt in the process.

“I am happy,” she admitted softly.  Then she bit her lip.  “Nii-chan?”

Amber eyes, trained on the horizon, at the sun that was quickly starting to sink behind the line of trees, he looked entirely peaceful, even if he seemed a little preoccupied.  “Hmm?”

“It’s . . . I-I-I mean . . .”

Blinking as he turned his head, his silver hair, blowing out around him in the gentle, if not slightly balmy, breeze, he frowned.  “What’s the matter?”

She grimaced, unable to staunch the rise of blood that filtered into her cheeks.  “You . . . You’ve been with . . . with women before, right?”

She could tell from the expression on his face, the stubborn set of his jaw, the almost turbulent darkening of his gaze, that he was about to tell her that it wasn’t any of her business, and she quickly shook her head.  “I just . . . We haven’t . . . I-I-I mean, we’ve done . . . a few things, but nothing like that yet, and—”

“Spare me the details, Saori-chan,” he muttered, cheeks pinking as he shook his head.

She sighed.  “It’s only . . . Is there something I can . . . can do to . . . you know, make it better?”

He sighed, too.  “To be honest, I doubt there’s a thing that he’d expect you to do, so no,” he said.  He didn’t sound entirely comfortable with the subject at hand, but at least he was listening . . . “Besides, every woman is different, so what might please one might not please another, and what one woman might be comfortable with doesn’t mean that another one would be, either.  Fai-sama . . . He’s smart enough to know this.  Just . . . Just try to relax.  I’m sure that the two of you will figure it out.”

Despite her discomfort, she had to smile at the almost surly tone of her brother’s voice.  “Just relax,” she repeated, slowly nodding.  “I . . . I can do that . . . I think . . .”

“Good,” he said, leaning toward her to give her a little nudge.  “And tomorrow?  I’d appreciate if you don’t give me a recap.”

She did giggle at that.  As confident as Rinji tended to be, she still found it endearing that certain subjects could still fluster him.  “You know, one of the advocates from the home was asking me about you . . .” she ventured.

Rinji grunted.  “You’re not going to try to play matchmaker, are you?”

She shrugged.  “Oh, come on!  Anja-san is a sweet girl!  She’s pretty, too, and I couldn’t help but to notice that she has really large bre—”

“I am not discussing her . . . assets with you,” he interrupted sternly.

Saori laughed.  “She’s single, nii-chan.”

He heaved a sigh, shook his head.  “I’m supposed to be enjoying my stolen time with you,” he told her.  “I’m not, though.  Care to guess why?”

“Hello . . .”

Saori was still laughing when she turned her body to see her mother and grandmother, lingering in the doorway.

“Rinji, can you excuse us?  We’d like a few minutes alone with Saori before Fai manages to elude your father and grandfather,” Aiko said.

Rinji chuckled and swung his legs back over the railing, lighting on the balcony.  Then he grabbed Saori and pulled her over safely, sparing a moment to give her a quick squeeze, a kiss on the forehead, before bowing to the other women and slipping past them, back into the bedroom once more.

“I asked the maid to draw a nice, relaxing bath for you, sweetie,” Aiko said as Rinji slipped out of the bedroom.  “You may not have a long time to soak, but you should have enough time to get the jitters out of your system.”

She let her grandmother wrap her arm around her shoulders and steer her through the bedroom and into the bathroom where a very fragrant tub of water waited for her, tendrils of steam still rising off of the surface in inviting wisps.

Both women helped her to take off the dress, to carefully shake it out so that it could be hung up to be taken to the dry cleaner later and then likely wrapped for storage.  It wasn’t that fancy—just a very simple white dress that held very little in the way of embellishment other than the antique lace that edged the hem and just touched the floor all the way around.

Aiko and Kagura slipped out of the room to ready the bed chamber—they said.  Saori wasn’t entirely sure what they were doing, but she closed her eyes as she sank down in the fragrant water, willing herself to relax.

The wedding itself had been beautiful—at least, to her, it was.  It wasn’t fancy, it wasn’t overdone, but it was full of the people and the love that she could feel.  That all the children were there as well as her old co-workers and the potential adopters, added a deeper level of happiness to the occasion.  She hoped that those children could see that the best moments of their young lives were still ahead of them, and watching them as they played and danced and spent time with the families was so very priceless to her . . . Those children with families would be leaving in the coming week, ready to embark on new chapters in all of their lives.  The ones that were going to be transferred to Tokyo Academy would leave in a couple weeks to get settled in, and the ones that were staying behind because they were almost ready to age out of the system?  She’d be spending time with each one in the coming days to see what each of them wanted to do, where they wanted to go in their lives, to see if they might be able to do things to help each one along their ways . . .

She’d even seen Gunnar, dancing with Galinia—quite possibly one of the cutest moments, in her opinion.  The girl had looked positively awestruck, and Gunnar, for once, hadn’t tried to hide behind an aloof and foreboding kind of demeanor.

All of it, in large part, was due to Konstantin, who had taken his duties seriously as Fai’s _svideteli_ , and everyone was having a fine time, thanks to his efforts.  Food and drink were abundant, thanks to Fai’s cook, Olga, as well as Ryomaru, who had felt the compulsion to ensure that there were regional dishes from all over the world.  Fai, of course, hadn’t been able to set foot in the kitchen since he was a little too busy to do so, but he hadn’t complained about the food, as far as she knew . . . All in all, the guests were being well-entertained.  Well, everyone but Fai, possibly . . .

She giggled as her mother and grandmother stepped into the bathroom once more.  “Okay, Saori.  It’s time.  Sesshoumaru texted me and said that Fai’s about to lose his temper, so we’d better get a move on it.”

She stepped out of the tub, only to be wrapped securely in a warm and fuzzy towel.  Aiko reached up, started pulling pins out of her hair that held it up in the intricate twist of braids and curls and tiny flowers that had been so carefully arranged earlier.  “Demyanova Saori,” Aiko murmured, a slight hitch in her voice as she cleared her throat.  “That’s going to take some getting used to . . .”

Kagura chuckled as she gently but briskly toweled off Saori’s arms, shoulders.  “We didn’t buy you a negligee,” she said.  “You don’t need one, anyway.”

“Obaa-chan!” Saori gasped, cheeks pinking in a violent explosion of blood under her skin.

Kagura blinked, staring at Saori for a long moment before breaking into her gentle smile once more.  “We weren’t thinking of sending you to meet your mate naked, Saori,” she pointed out.

Aiko giggled, tenderly drawing the brush through Saori’s freed locks.  “It just occurred to me that your father . . . _appreciated_ it when I met him at the door with a glass of his favorite drink and wrapped up in my Mokomoko-sama . . .”

Kagura laughed.  “We brought up a glass of vodka—that’s his drink of choice, isn’t it?”

Saori giggled and nodded, still blushing, but mostly because of the reference to her Mokomoko-sama.

Aiko cleared her throat.  “It’s laying on your bed, Saori . . . and, considering what it smells like, it seems as though Fai-sama might be more like your father than you might have thought . . .”

She gasped, the blush that had just started to recede, darkening painfully.  Aiko laughed and gave her a quick squeeze.  “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your mate,” she told her.  “Fai-sama is a very good-looking man, so it’d be a shame if you didn’t . . .”

Kagura shook her head, but she was still smiling.  “All right, Aiko, leave your daughter alone.”  Reaching over, stroking Saori’s cheek with a tender hand, her smile trembled slightly, but did not falter.  “You made a fine choice, Saori . . .  and your ojii-chan wanted you to have this.”

Blinking in confusion as Kagura pressed a small, tissue wrapped package into her hand, she followed the women out of the bathroom as they headed for the door.  Aiko had turned down the blankets on the bed, lit soft, unscented candles on the table, on the nightstands, lending the room such a warmth, a softness, as the glowing light cast a subtle warmth over everything . . . Both of the women waved to her, blew her kisses as they slipped out of the room, and Saori sighed, biting her lip as she frowned thoughtfully at the small box she held.

The tissue fell away with a flick of her claw, and she stared at the black velvet jeweler’s box.  Pressing the button, the lid flipped open, and she smiled as a wash of tears filled her eyes.  There, nestled in the fine black silk, was a thin silver chain—one of Sesshoumaru’s hairs—and suspended from it was a tiny crescent moon.  There was no magic to it—no secret incantation or anything, but it reminded her of her childhood, her insular fascination with her grandfather’s moon crest on his forehead.  As a child, she’d loved to sit on his lap, to trace that crescent moon over and over.  Looking back now, she realized that it had to have driven him crazy at the time, but he’d never stopped her, even when he was trying to look over his paperwork . . . That he’d remembered such a small thing?

Blinking back her tears, she quickly pulled the pendant free, fastened the fine chain around her neck before sniffling to herself as she uttered a shaky laugh, as she dropped the towel and reached for her Mokomoko-sama.  Somewhere in the distance, she could sense Fai’s youki coming closer.  She’d just wrapped the long rectangle around her body, had just retrieved the glass of vodka from the nightstand, when the door opened, and her new husband stepped inside . . .

His eyes flared wide, then narrowed as he pushed the door closed, as he stepped toward her.  “Saori?  What—?”

She sniffled again, choked out a rough laugh as she helplessly shook her head.  “It’s nothing,” she hurried to say, blinking fast as she tried to dispel the tears that still clouded her vision.  “Ojii-chan gave me this,” she explained, touching the necklace with her trembling fingers.  “That’s all . . .”

He relaxed slightly, apparently satisfied that she wasn’t upset over something else.  Tugging off his jacket, he tossed it over the back of a chair as he yanked his tie loose, too.  “It’s pretty,” he told her, working the buttons of his cuffs.  “Is that for me?”

She blinked, realized a moment too late that she was holding his glass.  “Oh!  Yes, it is,” she blurted, extending it to him.

He chuckled as he took the glass, as he slowly sipped the vodka as he stared at her, his gaze bright, even though she couldn’t rightfully tell, just what he was thinking.  He said nothing, setting the glass on the table and leaning against it long enough to kick off his shoes, to bend over and tug off the socks, as well.  Then he stood up straight, dug his hands into his pockets, his smile fading, a thoughtful kind of lilt entering his expression as he continued to stare at her.

“Fai?” she said, her voice wavering slightly.  Was he sorry that they’d gotten married so fast?  What was it that he had on his mind . . .?

He sighed.  “I’m sorry,” he said, turning away, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

“Sorry?” she echoed, unconsciously pulling her Mokomoko-sama more tightly around her shoulders.  “W . . . Why . . .?”

Pulling the shirt out of his waistband, he sighed again, but he still refused to look at her.  “I . . . I want you to promise me something.”

“Okay . . .”

“If someone gives you a bad feeling, you have to tell me.  You should have told me about Evgeni,” he said, his tone fierce—fierce and a little sad—his youki felt sadder—sadder and almost . . . almost disgusted . . .? “No one in my life is as important to me as you are,” he told her, his voice dropping low, and he sighed again.  “He . . . He knew about the tai-youkai account—knew and kept it from me deliberately.  He . . . He was never Father’s friend.  He . . . was never _my_ friend . . .”

“But—”

He shook his head.  “If you had told me sooner . . .”

“Why?  Why would he do that?”

He shook his head again.  “I don’t know, but even if I don’t find out why, I’m pretty sure that he’s the one behind the rumors, too.”  His voice turned sardonic, almost angry, not that she could blame him.  “What better way to incite unrest than to let it slip that the tai-youkai’s coffers were nearly empty?  To spread innuendo that I was planning on usurping all of the regents?  And when I think about how much he knew—how much I let him know . . .? How could I have been so stupid, and then you . . .?” Whipping around so quickly that Saori gasped, Fai glared at her—a fierce look.  “So, even if you think I won’t like it—even if you think it might . . . might upset me . . . If you have a bad feeling about someone, you need to tell me.  Promise me, Saori.”  He grimaced.  “You . . . Yerik . . . You’re the two I know I can trust . . .”

She stepped over to him, let go of the Mokomoko-sama in favor of grasping his face in her hands.  “I promise,” she whispered.  “Fai . . . I . . .”

He stared at her for another long moment.  Suddenly, he choked out a harsh laugh, but he didn’t sound amused at all.  He sounded like he wanted to cry.  She grimaced, hating the sadness that seemed to radiate off of him in waves, wishing in vain that she could take that from him, knowing in her heart that she couldn’t.  He didn’t see it, and maybe that was for the best . . . Letting his forehead fall against hers, eyes closed, he cleared his throat, turning his head far enough to kiss the palm of her hand.  “Saori . . .”

She did the only thing she could think to do, gently turning his face, pressing her lips against his.  The unquestionable spark that shot straight through her, even from the sweetness of the kiss, was enough to make her body feel as though it had instantly liquified as she leaned against him, into him, as his lips moved so gently against hers . . .

Slipping her arms around his neck, burying her fingers, deep in his hair, she sighed softly as he pulled her close—as close as she could possibly be—as the precarious wave of liquid heat ignited in her veins.  There was a curious sense of languor, even as the nerves in her body seemed to come alive, one by one in such a stunning and rapid succession that she whimpered softly, her body seeming to melt against his even more.  He caught her, steadied her, offered her a sense of strength, of stability, even as hers faltered.

The feel of his fangs, grazing against her lips, sent a wave of shivers through her.  The flick of his tongue, both electrifying and soothing, all at the same time.  Her mouth fell slack as he alternated between nibbling her lips and sucking gently.  The stroke of his tongue against hers wrung a moan from her, but he was in no hurry, and it was maddening . . .

The gentle tickle of claws, running up and down her back, made her shiver.  The soft flick of his hair, falling over his face, touching her cheeks, her forehead in such a whisper of motion, like the wings of a butterfly . . .

There was no beginning, no ending, just a constant, steady blend of touches, caresses, of a slow discovery.  Each brush of his fingertips, every flutter of his lips, the steady hum of his body, the draw of his youki as it wrapped around hers, as it merged with hers, but it didn’t overwhelm hers, didn’t seek to overpower.  No, it was more of a blending, a sweet melding that buffered hers and yet lifted her higher, as though he sought to empower her, and, regardless of whether it was on accident or by design, the end result was stunning, staggering, and she blinked back a wash of tears, holding him a little closer, pushing herself against him in a wholly intuitive kind of way . . .

And she understood, didn’t she?  It was the true meaning of becoming mates, of merging her life with his on every single level.  Mates bolstered one another, filled in the gaps that strengthened their whole.  Everything that he was, everything that he could be, would become the parts of her that she didn’t possess on her own, just as she would do for him.  It was insanely simple, and yet wholly complex—a brilliant surge, a moment of completion, and she knew in her heart that it was something she’d remember for always.

He leaned away, smiled at her in such a serious, almost reverent way, hazel eyes seeming to take on an insular glow—a tempered wash of passion that simmered just below the surface.  Without taking his gaze off of her, he shrugged off his shirt, let it drop to the floor, before bending down long enough to retrieve her Mokomoko-sama, wrapping is around her once more.  Then he scooped her up, kissing her again, kissing her softly, telling her without words, all those things that he’d struggled to say and just couldn’t.  Something about being wrapped as she was, the familiarity she’d always known, even as the strands of everything she knew was warped and spinning so very quickly, shifting into a new kind of reality—one where Fai was her center . . .

He let go of her feet, let them fall to the mattress, before he laid her down, without breaking the kiss, without leaving her.  He stretched out beside her, leaned over her, slipping his bent knee between her legs, his hands stroking her hair back out of her face, fingertips so light, dancing over her cheeks, her jawline with every teasing nibble, every breath . . .

She arched her back, pressed her body as close to him as she possibly could as that fire in her belly spread and intensified.  Grimacing as the fabric of his slacks chafed her, she uttered a quiet whimper, and his answer was the tenderest of kisses, the flutter of his lips on hers, the softest flick of his tongue over the swollen and rouged skin of her mouth.

Reacting on instinct, she fumbled with the fastenings of those pants.  Her fingers felt so clumsy, but she kept trying.  With a frustrated little growl, she pushed herself up, breaking the kiss as Fai blinked in a dazed sense of confusion.  From her new vantage point, however, she was better able to work those fastenings—the button, the zipper—thank kami he hadn’t bothered to wear a belt.

Suddenly, he chuckled, flopping over onto his back, folding his hands together under the back of his neck . . . He wasn’t helping her, no, but he wasn’t hindering her, either.  He did lift his hips, though, when she grasped the waistband of his slacks and tugged.  When she finally got them to around his knees, he kicked them off and started to reach for her, only to fall back again with a sharp hiss when her hands wrapped around the thickness of him.

He was fascinating.  Sure, she’d taken biology classes, and yes, she’d understood just how things like this worked.  There was something vastly different in knowing the theory and seeing it—feeling it—for herself.  His skin, so warm, so soft, stretched so tightly over the distended erection, and the solid feel of the muscle beneath . . . Even as she stared, it seemed to swell just a little more as it jerked and twitched in her hands . . .

His breath was rasping, reaching, and she bit her lip when she glanced up, onto to find him, body so rigid, so tightly wound, eyes squeezed closed as he grimaced, like he was fighting something deep inside.  A fine sheen of sweat broke over his brow, on his chest as his muscles strained and twitched, and she stared at his face, giving him a gentle squeeze that wrung a raw, almost savage, groan from him.  Sliding her hands up and down the length of him, the skin catching beneath her hands as the muscles beneath twitched more, she marveled in the feel of him—all of him . . .

“This . . . This is all mine, right . . .?” she mused, tilting her head to the side as she slowly let her gaze travel up and down Fai’s prone body.  “I mean, we’re mates, so that means . . . you’re mine, doesn’t it?”

Letting out a half-groan, half-sigh, he tried to lean up on his elbows, but when he opened his eyes, the fire that burned behind his gaze was enough to make the breath catch in her throat.  “Depends,” he growled, his tone, husky, concupiscent.  “You either need to . . . keep doing what you’re doing—which I would prefer . . . or you need to move your hands if you want to have this discussion now because I . . . I can’t think when you’re touching me . . . I can’t . . .”

She giggled since he sounded a lot calmer than he looked.  With a roughened growl, he leaned forward, grabbed her by the arms, dragged her against his chest as he fell back, as his voracious mouth sought out hers once more.  He lifted her up, pulled her forward, his lips closing around one stiffened peak of her nipple as she gasped, as she shuddered, as she reached forward, grasping the spindles of the headboard to brace herself.  His tongue flicked over her, creating waves of the sweetest ache that spun through her with a ferocity that left her mind reeling.  Moving her slightly, just enough that he could catch her other nipple, he growled low in his throat as she moaned again, as she ground her hips against his stomach.  It didn’t do a thing to appease that ache that he’d created within her . . .

Over and over, he drew her in as deeply as he could, his tongue creating a soothing kind of balm that only really served to send that smoldering heat, spiraling higher.  Gasping, groaning, whimpering, she uttered half-words that made no sense, even as she fought to make him understand.  It was maddening, frustrating, and oh, so welcome.  He tamed her with soft kisses, gentled her with throaty little sounds, savoring her body as though he were trying to commit every curve, every nuance, every last bit of her to memory.

She let her hands drop to his shoulders, pushed against him to break the suction of his mouth as she scooted down, as she kissed him hard, kissed him with all the need that she couldn’t quite contain.  He was so vibrant, so alive, and the underlying knowledge that he was hers forever was heady and entirely frightening, even as it thrilled and humbled her by turns.

The weight of his emotions crashed into her as she grasped his shoulders, as she clung to him.  He grasped her hips as her legs fell on either side of him, positioning her, and, with a sharp gasp, he slid into her.

She tore her mouth away from him, sat up straight, her head falling back, eyes slipping closed as the harsh gasp slipped from her.  He groaned, lifting up on her hips, only to pull her down again as the length of him rose up in her so deep, so welcome, that she pitched forward, crashing down on him as he shivered and moaned . . .

He rolled them over, undulating his hips against hers as he cradled her face, as he kissed her deep, tongue stroking hers in time with the movements of his body.  She arched against him, willed him to understand the turmoil of the sensations that were goading her farther, closer, nearer, and yet, it wasn’t nearly enough.

The completeness of him, nestled so deep within her . . . the feeling of being one with him, even as the beats of their hearts seemed to merge . . . Yet, there was still something she was missing—a feeling that whispered to her, even if she didn’t fully grasp where it led just yet . . .

Reaching back, he slipped his hand under her knee, hooked her leg and brought it up, opening her wider, allowing him deeper, and she gasped, whispered his name in a harsh sort of cry.  Rocking his hips against hers, the tremendous sense of heat and light, and he shuddered, his entire body quaking as she felt him thicken, quivering, so far inside her . . .

He leaned up, uttered a terse sort of growl.  “Open your eyes,” he told her.

For a moment, she couldn’t quite do it.  So lost in the tide of overwhelming need, she felt as though she were drowning.  But she did manage it, eyes opening just far enough to stare deep into his gaze, marveling at the fierce light, the naked passion as he drove into her again and again.

He closed his eyes just for a second, a roughened groan slipping from him, but he somehow forced his eyes open once more, his expression tightening, a fierce sense of raw male pleasure surfacing as his jaw tightened, as he rasped out her name, as his body tensed inside hers.  Another stroke, two, and she cried out as that strand of pressure burst, as an explosion of heat and light and need broke wide—as she felt the wash of his orgasm . . . as his cry joined hers in the quiet, their minds, their bodies, their souls joining together, the bond of mates, complete . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In case you missed it, the prologue for Purity Zero is posted on Media Miner as well as on Ao3.  Commentary welcome!  Enjoy_!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020 ——— Sora ——— Silent Reader
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— Monsterkittie ——— minthegreen ——— Amanda Gauger
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _Damn_ …


	60. 59: Meetings

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_59_** ~~  
~ ** _Meetings_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Fai awoke with a start, gasping loudly as the heat of Saori’s mouth sank down over him.  Before he could even begin to try to figure out, just what was going on, the stilted, almost jerky, erratic rhythm she created slammed down over his ability to discern conscious thought as a wholly tactile sort of resonance brought his hips up off the bed, his hands sinking deep into her hair, taking over the motion, the speed of the thrusts as she clumsily wrapped her tongue around him, as her saliva dripped down the length of him, under her hands that were wrapped so tightly around the base of his cock.  Her saliva, however, added a much-needed lubrication, and he could feel the telling tightening in his balls, the thickening of his shaft as the first drops of come squeezed out of him, only to be absorbed in the suction of her lips . . . A voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he’d better distract himself fast unless he wanted to end her little adventure a little faster than she’d probably like . . .

Letting go of her hair, he grasped her legs, pulled her up and over his chest, his head, sinking his tongue deep inside her as she gasped around his cock, as she rocked against his lips.  The scent of her had changed into something more of a mix of the two of them, and that knowledge was enough to elicit a fierce growl from him—a growl that reverberated straight through her as a hot gush of her satiny fluids filled his mouth, and he drank her down, savored the taste of her on his lips, on his tongue . . . She quivered, the dusty rose lips of her pussy, flushing, swelling as he sank a finger deep into her, lapping his way to that tiny bit of flesh that throbbed under the tip of his tongue.  She came almost instantly, her body stiffening, her head lifting as she cried out.  With another roughened growl, he reached down with his free hand, pushed her head back down, her lips parting, only to close over him once more.  The burn of her tongue was enough, and he groaned deep, loud, as his body exploded, filling her mouth with his come.  She swallowed around the thickness of him, lips making such a lurid sound as she tried to suck him and swallow at the same time.

He goaded her on with a flick of the tip of his tongue, with a quickened pace as his fingers slid into and out of her by turns.  His thumb, already drenched by her body, rubbed against her asshole, and she quaked, quivered, keened softly . . .

Another orgasm rocked her body as she tried to take him in deeper.  She gagged once, but kept trying, and he couldn’t contain the shiver, the roughened growl when he felt the head of his cock hit the back of her throat—the dizzying softness—that erupted into a swelling fire . . .

He pushed her off and sat up in one fluid motion.  Before she could react, he fell on her, slipping his arms around her belly, bringing her up onto her hands and knees as he buried himself into her.  The barely contained brutality of it wrenched a scream from her as her body came undone by that one single stroke.  He gritted his teeth, held himself still, willed himself not to come as he rode out the spasming lure of her.  She’d just started to come down from it when he drew his hips back, slammed them against her once more, grasping her hips, using her own body to leverage his strokes.  She called out again, her head falling back, giving up as her body reacted in its own way, rearing back against him, his body cracking like thunder as it met hers, as the echo of it spun around them.  Just a few more strokes, and he grunted, groaned, filling her with his orgasm as he came hard, as he pumped into her time and again . . .

And then, he collapsed on her, bearing them both down against the mattress, their breathing, stunted and shallow as he barely managed to roll to the side, pulling her with him, his cock still buried deep inside her.

She recovered before he did, giggling softly as she rolled over, as he grimaced when he slid out of her.  “Good morning, my mate,” she said, leaning on her elbow, her cheeks prettily pinked despite the brilliance of the smile on her face.

He chuckled a little weakly.  “Did I do something to deserve that?  Not that I’m complaining . . .”

She giggled again.  “He was awake before you were,” she told him.  “He wanted to say hi, so it would have been rude to ignore him, don’t you think?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Fai drawled, pulling her in close, kissing her in a lazy kind of way, as though they had all the time in the world.  “I could pretend to go back to sleep if you wanted to . . . explore some more . . .”

She laughed.  “Aren’t you supposed to be trapped into those boring old tai-youkai meetings all day?”

He sighed as the swelling bubble of absolute contentment burst.  “You just had to remind me, didn’t you?” he grumbled.

She snuggled beside him, gently stroking his hair out of his face.  “Do you think they’d excuse us if we just stayed here all day?  I mean, we just got married . . .”

“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting with the families?  Making sure that everything is going well enough to okay them to leave?”

She sighed, too.  “Yeah, there is that . . .”

“Hmm . . .”

“So, about this ‘mates’ thing . . .”

“What’s that?”

She leaned up on her elbow.  “It means that you’re mine now, right?  And I’m yours?”

He considered that for a moment.  “Does that mean you’ll wake me up like that more often?”

She giggled, her cheeks pinking, but she nodded.  “If it pleased you.”

He grunted.  “Did you feel how hard I . . .? I mean, did you?”

“Because you liked that?”

He nodded slowly.  “Damn, yes, I did.”

She bit her lip.  “I don’t think I’d mind if you woke me up like that, either . . .”

He chuckled, pulling her close again, kissing her again—slow and soft and entirely sweet . . .

And then, the unmistakable sound of something loud and foreboding interrupted the idyll, and Fai sighed.  It sounded like it came from outside, and he shot Saori a questioning glance as he rolled out of bed and reached for his bath robe.  “That had to be one of your kin,” he muttered, striding over to the balcony doors and yanking them open.

“Oh . . .” Saori gasped, yanking her belt closed as she peered over the railing.

Fai sighed at the wreckage that used to be a stout tree as InuYasha proudly slammed Tetsusaiga into the scabbard on his hip.  Around him, many of the children were cheering, hopping up and down in their excitement.  “Did he really just wreck that tree, just to impress a bunch of pups?”

She nodded.  “I think so . . .”

Fai sighed and slowly shook his head.  “Are they going back home soon?”

She giggled and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

 

* * *

 

 

“Well, you look happy—maybe better than happy . . .”

Saori giggled as she hurried over to hug her brother when he stepped outside onto the open patio behind the Demyanov castle.  “You slept in late,” she remarked.  “Did I see Anja-san, sneaking out a little while ago?”

To her amusement, her beloved nii-chan blushed—a lot.  “ _Re-e-e-eally_ . . .”

He cleared his throat.  “She’s a lovely woman,” he replied.

Saori giggled more.  “And . . . did the two of . . . _talk_ all night?”

That earned her a very dry look that was completely undermined by the blush that still rode high in his cheeks.  “None of your business, Saori-chan . . . Or should I start calling you Saori-sama now?”

She wrinkled her nose, taking her time, sipping a very fragrant cup of tea.  “Don’t you dare, nii-chan.”

“I just came down to get a cup of coffee and to tell you that if you need help, I’ll be down after I make a few phone calls—business, you know.”

“Okay, thanks . . . Yerik said that he’d help me, too . . . Have you seen him this morning?”

Pausing as he poured coffee into one of the very pretty porcelain cups, Rinji shook his head.  “I haven’t,” he replied.  “Want me to go see if he’s up yet?”

She waved him off as she stood up.  “No, that’s okay.  I’ll do it.  Anyway, tou-chan mentioned something about needing to ask you a few questions regarding some merger or other?  He and kaa-chan went for a walk, but they should be back shortly . . .”

He rolled his eyes, reaching for an apple.  “All right,” he agreed.

She hurried back inside as she glanced at her watch.  It was nearly eleven, so the children and the families ought to be arriving soon.  The ones who were going to Tokyo Academy as well as the ones who were staying in Russia were already here, currently out with InuYasha, Ryomaru, Kichiro, and their mates, getting another lesson in tracking.  “Vasili,” she called, spotting the butler, cleaning the great room.  “Have you seen Yerik this morning?”

“I have not, Your Grace,” he replied.

Saori blinked at the change of address.  “You don’t have to call me that,” she murmured, unable to contain the blush that rose in her cheeks at the perceived formality.

Vasili chuckled.  “Indeed, I do, and it is, of course, my honor and pleasure to serve you, as well as His Grace.”

She didn’t think about it as she hurried over, as she braced herself on his arm, leaning up to kiss the butler on the cheek.  He blushed about fifteen shades of red as she spun around and hurried back out of the great room once more, heading for the stairs.

She was going to conduct the interviews with the families today, and, while she didn’t expect anything to happen, she still wanted to make sure that they were all positive about the potential adoptions.  They’d decided that the best course would be to place the children as fosters for a one-year period before the adoptions were made final, which would give them all a period to adjust to all the changes that were bound to come up, from cultural differences to language barriers—all of those things to give each family adequate time to bond.  During that year, the tai-youkai had also agreed to keep checking in with each family, as well, offering them whatever services they might need to make the transition smooth.

It was really all she could hope for, and as long as the children were happy, then that was the only thing that really mattered to her.

She stopped and tapped on Yerik’s door.  He didn’t answer, and she frowned.  He wasn’t usually a late sleeper, but then, with all the merriment last night, it was quite possible that he was still in bed.  Without a second thought, she opened the door and stepped inside.  “Yerik?  Wake up!  You said you’d—” And she stopped dead in her tracks.  “Oh . . .!  Oh, kami!  I’m so sorry!” she blurted, face exploding in a crimson wash as she stumbled back, only to hit the door hard.  “I’m so, so sorry!” she barked again, this time, bowing deep as she reached behind herself for the door handle.

Yerik half-groaned, half-choked, very obviously not quite able to stop since he was deep into the throes of pleasure, if the contorted expression on his face meant anything at all as Niven, the heir to the South American tai-youkaikship, uttered a rasping laugh.  Holding tight to Yerik’s hips, he didn’t break his stride as he glanced over at Saori and smiled.  “Morning, Your Grace,” he managed without stopping as he pounded into Yerik’s ass, and that only served to draw more groans, more pants and moans from the younger Demyanov . . .

“E-E-Excuse me!” she squeaked, finally managing to get the door open and stumble out into the hall.

Smashing her hands over her cheeks, she drew a few deep breaths, tried in vain to blink away what she hadn’t meant to see.  Yerik and Niven . . .?

She had no idea what to think of that . . .

‘ _Now, come on, Saori . . . It wasn’t that bad, was it?_ ’

Flinching at her youkai-voice’s entirely pragmatic tone, she shook her head.  ‘ _I . . . Well, I . . . I just don’t think he meant for me to see that . . ._ ’

‘ _So, maybe he likes a little wilder stuff than you’d be interested in, but really, you’re just going to embarrass him if you don’t get a grip on yourself._ ’

Even so . . .

Drawing another deep breath, she opted instead to hurry down the hallway to her room, figuring that it’d be wiser to take a few minutes, to rinse her face with cool water or something.  Considering her cheeks still felt like they were on fire, maybe she ought to try to get that under control before she went back downstairs again . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Striding into the office, Fai stopped short when most of the men who had already gathered, halted their conversations and very obviously made a show of sniffing in his direction.  He rolled his eyes, shook his head, and sighed.

“Well, well, looks like you figured out where to stick that cute little penis of yours,” Eduardo St. George remarked with a good-natured chuckle.

“If it were me, I’d be up there, locked into my room with my mate, not down here, trying to conduct a meeting,” Sabra Kouri, the African tai-youkai added.

“You and Mother have been mates for centuries, and it doesn’t stop you now,” Sabra’s eldest son and heir to the tai-youkaiship, Amon, said.

“And your mother never complains, now does she?”

Amon shook his head.

“Yours do that, too?” Bas barked.  “Glad to know I’m not the only one who’s been scarred for life.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen more of Zelig’s ass than I ever wanted to, too,” Gunnar muttered.

“Gin says I have a very nice ass,” Cain informed them, stuffing a bite of cake into his mouth.  He was the only one with cake, and Fai slowly shook his head.  He’d been told that Gin made cakes for the North American tai-youkai daily, and, if you wanted to start a fight, then the fastest way would be to try to get a piece of that cake since Zelig was a little—or a lot—overprotective of it.

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather be spared any of the sordid details,” Toga said.

“Where’s Yerik?” Fai asked, effectively changing the subject.  He hadn’t expressly asked Yerik to sit in on the meeting, but he hadn’t told him that he couldn’t, either.

“I think he’s still in his room.  He and Niven were up all night . . . talking, I believe,” Eduardo commented.

Something about the way that Eduardo had said that made Fai pause for a moment, but he let it go.  “MacDonnough said that he’d be arriving sometime this morning.  Should we wait for him or just get started?”

No one looked particularly interested in the idea of waiting, but the only one to speak up was Jude Covington, the Australian tai-youkai.  “Is he actually going to have anything to contribute to this meeting, anyway?” he asked, scowling at no one in particular and everyone in general.

“Well, inasmuch as none of us particularly care for him, he’s still one of us,” Sabra remarked dryly.

“He’s been exiling more of his generals,” Cain added.  “At least, that’s what we’ve heard.”

“We?  Meaning you and that stuffy old cat that’s always sniffing around for information?  Isn’t it about time for him to retire?” Jude countered.

Cain narrowed his eyes.  “If you mean Ben, I trust him with my life.”

Jude smiled rather maliciously.  “Of course, of course . . . And how is that son-in-law of yours?  The would-be murderer?”

Cain didn’t move, but his eyes darkened.  “Let it go, Covington.  You and I both know that Gavin didn’t do a thing to Dr. Avis.”

Jude nodded slowly but opted to let it drop.  “I guess I’ll start off by saying that there’s nothing going on in my jurisdiction that I cannot handle.”

“Ah, the tai-youkai we all ascribe to one day be,” Eduardo drawled, casting Covington a very tolerant little smile that still managed to make Jude blush just a little.  “When I grow up, I want to be just like you.”

Jude snorted and rolled his eyes.

“I swear these meetings bring out the child in each and every one of you,” Sesshoumaru muttered, tapping a well-tapered claw against his forehead.  He was currently sitting behind Fai’s desk, not that Fai minded.  Striding over to fill a cup with black coffee, he sipped it slowly and leaned against the mantle beside Bas Zelig.

“How is your jurisdiction, Zelig?” Jude asked almost pleasantly—a little too pleasantly, actually.

Cain pasted on a smile that was just as pleasant as Jude’s tone.  “Just fine, Covington.  Thanks for asking.  A small problem with some disappearances of a few youkai of late, but nothing out of the ordinary, really.”

Toga shook his head.  “Japan’s doing fine, as well.  How are the cold cases going, you two?”

Bas set his empty coffee mug aside—a mug that look like a cup from a little girl’s tea set in the huge man’s hand.  “We’ve managed to put a good-sized dent into a few cases this year, the biggest one involving a horse-youkai who killed seventeen people back in the late 1800s . . . Gunnar did most of the legwork on that one.  The horse was taken down by our newest hunter just a couple weeks ago . . .”

“The female?  Your cousin?” Sabra intoned.  “How is she working out?  We’ve had a couple women express some interest in joining our ranks of hunters, but . . . But I worry that they aren’t strong enough to handle the rigors of hunting . . .”

“Samantha’s very capable,” Gunnar remarked.  “After all, she was trained by the absolute best.”

 

* * *

 

 

Settling back in a chair as she watched the children, running around the garden and enjoying little picnics with their new families, Saori smiled and scanned the list of interviews she needed to get started on as soon as those lunches were finished.  As far as she could tell, it all seemed to be going insanely well, and, while she wasn’t fool enough to believe that it would all be absolutely smooth sailing, they all seemed to have a great start to build off of later on, as well.

She’d taken the time to talk to each of the children, to get a feel for how they were adapting, to see what they were thinking.  All of them, in their own ways, were so excited, so happy to be finding families where they could belong.  A few of the older ones did express some ambivalence about the idea of having to leave Russia, but some of them also viewed it as a great adventure, too.  All of them were already being taught English, and most of them had started lessons in the languages where they’d be going.  It certainly wasn’t going to be an easy process, but with some time and patience and love, they’d do just fine, she was sure.

And the potential adopters she’d sat down with through the course of the last week were also so happy, so pleased, as enamored of the children as the children were of them . . . Saori was very optimistic that they would all find their ways easily enough, and, given that the tai-youkai of the various jurisdictions had already pledged their full efforts into making sure that these families were fully supported in their paths to becoming real, functioning units?  She had no reason to think that it wouldn’t all work out just fine.

“Saori!”

Smiling as Galinia darted over to her, looking so prim and fresh in a pretty white cotton sundress and brand-new shoes, the girl held out a long-stemmed orange chrysanthemum to her.  “Thank you!” Saori said, taking the flower and scooping Galinia up into her lap to give her a quick cuddle.

Galinia giggled happily, smooshing a loud kiss on Saori’s cheek before snuggling against her for a moment.

“Are you having a good time?” she asked, content to hold the child as long as she’d allow it.

Galinia nodded.  “I get to ride on an airplane!” she said, leaning away, giving Saori a wide-eyed and very serious look.

“You do!” Saori agreed with a laugh.  “It’ll be like a new adventure, won’t it?”

“But . . . what if I get scared?” she asked, her little brow furrowing as she gave voice to the one question that must have weighed heavily on her mind.

Saori sighed.  “Well, you’ll have both of your new mothers there with you,” she reminded her.  “That will be okay, won’t it?”

She considered that but sighed.  “The boys said I shouldn’t show my fear or they might not want me if I’m a crybaby . . .”

“Oh, sweetie . . . They’re going to want you, regardless,” she assured her.  “I promise.”

Galinia didn’t seem entirely convinced.

“I’ll bet that if you asked them, they’d tell you that it’s okay to be afraid sometimes,” Saori went on.

“Are you ever afraid?”

Saori nodded.  “Of course, I am,” she said.  “It’s normal to be afraid.  Then you learn that those things you fear aren’t really as bad as you might have thought.  As long as you’re willing to face those fears, then you grow stronger.  That’s how you learn.”

Galinia thought about that.  “And when I grow up, I’ll be brave!”

Saori laughed and hugged the girl.  “That’s right, Galinia.  Now, do you want to go back to your new mothers?  It looks like they’re ready to have some dessert . . .”

Galinia giggled and squirmed to get down.  “I like dessert,” she exclaimed.

Saori’s smile didn’t fade as she watched the child run back to her new parents.  Then, she sighed.

It had only taken her about ten minutes to get her blush back under control after having so unexpectedly witnessed Yerik and Nevin’s impromptu personal time.  She’d managed to reason with herself enough to stop being so freaked out by what she’d seen.  After all, she’d told herself, the world was full of gay men, and that was fine.  There were a few couples here today that were either gay men or lesbian women, and it didn’t affect who they ultimately were.  In a very real way, they were now able to gain the families that they wanted that nature simply could not give them, and that was definitely worth it.  The real question that she had to ask herself was, did what she’d seen really impact how she felt about Yerik?  Because the short answer was that it didn’t.  He was no different now than he was months ago when she’d first met him.  Regardless of who Yerik chose to spend time with, he was still Yerik, one of her good friends—one of her _best_ friends—and now, her brother-in-law . . .

“Hey, Saori . . . Uh, morning,” Yerik said, stepping out of the castle.  His eyes were a little bloodshot—he must not have gotten any sleep at all—and his smile was tired, maybe a little wary as he slipped into the chair beside her.  “A-About what you saw . . .”

She quickly shook her head, willing herself not to blush as she smiled brightly at him.  “It’s your business, Yerik.  I . . . I shouldn’t have just barged in . . . I’m really sorry about that . . .”

He grimaced.  “No, I . . . I want to explain.  It . . . It wasn’t what you thought.  I mean, it was . . . but it wasn’t.”

Her confusion must have shown on her face because he sighed.  “I like women,” he said, lowering his voice, leaning toward her.  Something about the complete bewilderment in his own expression cut her to the quick.  It bothered her, didn’t it?  That he’d feel as though he had to explain himself to her . . .? And he really shouldn’t feel that way . . .

“Yerik-kun—”

He stubbornly shook his head, brows furrowing as he glared at the table before him.  “No, I . . . I do.  It’s just . . . just something about Niven.  I don’t know if it’s because he’s part siren or not, but . . . But . . .” He winced, holding out a hand, as though he were trying to grasp some truth that floated in the air.  “It’s like it doesn’t even matter that he’s a man, that I’m a man . . . God, this doesn’t make sense, does it?”

She pondered that for a long moment.  Then she shrugged.  “Maybe . . . I mean, I think I understand . . . It’s like when I met Dmitri.  We hit it off immediately, and I never stopped to think, ‘Oh, I shouldn’t be friends with him.  He’s a man!’  It . . . It didn’t matter to me.”  She sighed.  “It’s not the same thing, I know, but maybe . . . Maybe attraction itself doesn’t really have a gender, either.”

He winced.  “Is . . .? Is that what you think . . .?”

She nodded.  “It’s what I _believe_ ,” she told him.

He seemed surprised by what she’d said as he considered it in silence.  Then, he smiled at her, and it was the smile she’d grown familiar with, so full of boyish charm and those subtle hints of the man he would one day—sooner rather than later—be.  “Have I told you how glad I am that you’re a part of the family now?” he asked her.  “If I didn’t, consider it said.”

“Well, you didn’t, but . . .” She smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.  “I’m glad, too, Yerik.  I’ve never had a little brother before.  I’ve always been the youngest . . .” Then she bit her lip.  “Next time, though?  Would you lock your door or something?  Male or female, there are just some things I don’t think I want to see you doing . . .”

He laughed, his expression so much more of who he was than it had been.  He reached for an orange, slowly shaking his head, his cheeks slightly pink, but otherwise, no worse for wear.  “Absolutely,” he agreed.  “Absolutely . . .”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Rhonda M
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— Amanda Gauger
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _Well, that was an eyeful_ …


	61. 60: Liasons

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_60_** ~~  
~ ** _Liaisons_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“We’ve had the usual issues—regional infighting that we’ve had to deal and re-deal with, over and over again.  Every time they agree to terms to end the fighting, someone or something happens to usurp the peace . . . There is no overwhelming sense of unity that could bring both sides together.”

The only ones in the room—the tai-youkai and their heirs along with the Inu no Taisho—were all listening, considering the situation, and that situation was fairly bleak . . .

Sesshoumaru nodded slowly, considering Sabra Kouri’s words.  It was really no surprise to anyone that the African tai-youkai’s statements were consistent to what he normally said at these summits.  Fai frowned as he sat back.  As unstable as his jurisdiction could be, it was nothing in comparison to the African region.  Political unrest, regional issues between local tribes, both humans and youkai alike, led to so many issues in keeping the peace, and then, underneath that, were the very real issues of youkai in general who used the discord to further their own agendas that may or may not meet up with Sabra’s policies . . .

In short, Africa was a huge logistical nightmare, as far as that went, one that Fai did not envy in the least.

“Perhaps you ought to consider breaking Africa into a couple—maybe a few—regions,” Ian MacDonnough remarked rather casually.  It was the first time he’d spoken since his arrival an hour or so ago.  “If the continent is . . . too much for you to handle, that is . . .”

The tension in the office was a viable thing—a near palpable thing.

“I daresay that wouldn’t really solve a thing,” Jude Covington said.  “It might well do the exact opposite of what you wanted to do.  If you were to do that, it might give those warring factions the feeling that they’d ultimately won.  Ignore MacDonnough’s region-envy,” he went on dryly.  “Dividing Africa is really not the answer.”

“And what would be your suggestion, Covington?  Since you’re apparently so much wiser than I?” MacDonnough challenged.

“I don’t know, Ian, but, given that you’ve managed to drive out another of your high-profile generals recently, I don’t think you’re really in the position to be doling out advice, do you?”

Fai shook his head as the two tai-youkai glared at each other, neither willing to back down for several tense minutes.

Sesshoumaru tapped the desk with his knuckles to break it up.  “What are your thoughts, Sabra?  Is there anything that we should consider?  That the others might be able to assist you with in finding some kind of solution?”

  
“It has long been African policy to allow the regions freedom in dealing with their issues, and I hate to impose my own will upon those who have a different ideology.  Even so, I’ve been meeting with my advisors, trying to gain a better feel for everything that has been happening.  Tribes go to war over the smallest slights.  They take hostages, selling some into black-market slavery, into the underground fighting institutions . . . Others indiscriminately kill off those who would oppose them, and there’s often as much youkai blood in it as there are humans . . . Hard to issue hunt orders when the offenders are often human, too.”

“Slavery,” Eduardo remarked with a thoughtful scowl.  “I’ve recently had it brought to my attention, as well.  It seems there’s a fairly large ring in South America—Venezuela, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Slavery?” Cain echoed.  “Are you serious?”

Eduardo nodded.  “A girl recently came to me.  Her owner had died.  He set his slaves free.  She told me some about where she’s from, about the camps and the training and all of it.  It’s an ugly, ugly picture she paints.  The thing is, they breed them.”

“What?” Fai blurted, shaking his head as he tried to grasp just what Eduardo was saying.

Eduardo shot him a small little smile.  It lacked any actual humor and was more apologetic than it probably should have been.  “She was bred there,” he reiterated.  “They have a camp—an island—where they do nothing but breed these slaves.  Frighteningly efficient, if you ask me.  They forego the need to capture people . . . I assume that it’s easier to remain unnoticed since they are not actively . . . _recruiting_ . . .”

“So, they’re producing their own . . . stock, you mean?” Jude demanded.  “That’s . . .”

“It’s not unheard of,” Sabra added.  “Back in the day, the blood-youkai used to farm humans for consumption . . . Faine would know about that, wouldn’t you?”

Fai nodded slowly.  It was never a problem these days, but back before the blood-youkai were taken care of, it had been.  Their barbaric ways were what had ultimately led to their annihilation . . . “Even so . . .”

Eduardo sighed.  “Forgive me.  I didn’t clarify enough.  They’re not producing _human_ slaves.  We’re talking _youkai_.”

“The hell,” Jude exclaimed.  “Youkai?”

“I’ve sent one of my hunters in undercover,” Eduardo added.  “From the nature of his reports . . . It’s a horrible, terrible place . . . and it’s far more sophisticated than you can believe.  They have different camps—islands—for different levels of training—everything from domestic slaves to . . . to sex slaves . . .”

“Sex slaves?  They’re _youkai!_ ” Cain growled.

“And does that matter if there’s money to be had?” Eduardo challenged quietly.  “A mate bond only exists if one cares to nurture it on some level.  If it lacks the emotion, do you think it would matter?”

“Of course, it matters,” Bas Zelig snarled.

“Actually, it makes sense that it doesn’t,” Gunnar Inutaisho added with a thoughtful scowl.  “Kichiro-oji-san has said for years that it’s the emotion that drives that bond—that reinforces it.  Even so, how are there no other ramifications of it?”

Eduardo shook his head, steepling his fingertips before him as he pondered Gunnar’s question.  “Your guess is as good as mine, unfortunately.  The thing that bothers me most, however, is the idea that these children who are bred strictly to be sold to the highest bidder?  The girl I’ve met has expressed the desire to go back, to be re-sold.  The free world frightens her.  She has no idea, how to cope in a world where she is not told what to do every second of the day . . . We’re talking about potentially _thousands_ like her . . . and this is just one operation.”

“And it’s as basic as survival of the fittest,” Ian MacDonnough pointed out.  “Who are we to say what can and cannot be done?  Are you all really so self-righteous to try to say that what they do is so very different from the idea that we are entitled to dictate the morality of everyone who lives within our borders?”

“Are you kidding me?” Cain growled, narrowing his eyes on MacDonnough.  “Are you fucking _kidding_ me?”

Bas lifted his arm, pushing his father back a step as he started to stalk toward the European tai-youkai.  “He’s not worth it, Dad.”

MacDonnough broke into a rather nasty smile.  “Hiding behind your tainted spawn, Zelig?  Sounds about right . . .”

“That’s enough, Ian,” Sesshoumaru said in a tone that left no room for argument.

“Is that right?  Then tell me, Sesshoumaru . . . Aren’t you the one who never intervenes?  Aren’t you the one who believes that one should live and let die?”

“I believe that’s, ‘live and let live,’ Ian,” Toga corrected.  “So, I take it that you’re aware if there is a slave facility in Europe . . . and that you just don’t really care?”

“I neither know nor do I care,” Ian remarked, dismissing the question with a flick of his hand.  “Our kind has always ascribed to the idea that the strong rule over the weak, haven’t we?  Isn’t that why we are who we are?  If these slaves are displeased with their lots in life, then it’s upon them to rise up against it.  I, for one, have not the time nor the inclination to interfere.”

Eduardo cleared his throat.  “Entirely the kind of reaction that those who do this are hoping for, of course.  I, however, see it otherwise.  My ability to sit back and ignore it ends when that allows for these youkai to be bred and used and abused and, in the end, thrown away like common garbage.  They don’t have names, you see?  They’re given serial numbers, and those numbers are their only sense of identity.  Those numbers are branded on their feet as infants.  From the very hour of their births, they know only a life of pain and servitude, and how I can possibly sit back, knowing this?  Well, maybe you’re a colder man that I could ever . . . _hope_ to be.”

“Let us know if you need any kind of assistance,” Cain said.  “I’ve not heard anything of the sort in my area, but . . .”

Eduardo nodded.  “I brought the video . . .” he admitted.  “The interviews we’ve conducted with Korin.  I . . . I took the liberty of giving her a name.”

“Let me see,” Sesshoumaru said.

Eduardo stood up, handed over the tiny jump drive.  It only took a moment to plug it into the video system on the control panel on the desk.

The room fell silent as the video began: a very small woman, sitting in what looked to be a stark little room, pale under the harsh fluorescent lighting that gave the video an almost grainy feel.  In her quiet voice, she gave all the information she knew of—things that turned Fai’s stomach as she described her life in the slave camps.  She was raised on an island with the rest of the children, taught from the onset that they weren’t allowed to think for themselves, that they weren’t allowed to show emotion or to even exist as real entities . . .

She went on to describe the islands: the slave islands where they were taught hard work, where the punishments were always brutal and designed to keep them under the thumbs of those in power above them.  Not one of them were ever taught how to actually be youkai . . . and then, there were the sex slave islands . . .

All of it was horrifying, disturbing in the extreme.  By the end of the nearly two-hour video, not one of the tai-youkai said a thing.  It was hard enough to digest everything that was presented, and, Fai suspected, what she’d said?  It was really only the tip of the proverbial iceberg . . .

“And you’ve sent someone in already?” Sesshoumaru pressed.

Eduardo nodded.  “I have,” he agreed.

“Keep me apprised of your findings,” Sesshoumaru stated.  “I want to know everything.”

Eduardo sighed.  “Niven’s handling parts of the fact finding.”

“I’ve been hunting down any other information I can get,” the future South American tai-youkai remarked.  “Most notably, looking for the other slaves that were freed with Korin—she’s the one who told us the most about the organization.  So far, I’ve found one, and he was dead—hanging from the side of a bridge in Panama . . .”

“Is it really such a good idea to entrust such important information to the discretion of others?” Ian demanded, arching a brow at Eduardo.

“And just how do you expect one person to field every bit of information and to handle all the things that come across our desks in one day?” Fai challenged MacDonnough mildly.

“Well, you would know about that better than anyone, wouldn’t you, Faine?  After all, aren’t you the one who . . . hired an outsider to deal with your orphan problem?  But I suppose that it’s different, given that you mated her, now isn’t it?”

“Saori’s done a damn good job of handling the placement of our orphans, Ian—although I must admit, I’m glad you turned her down flat.  I don’t think that placing any of our children in your jurisdiction would have helped them at all.”

“Yes, well, in the future, if any of you bother to ask me for a favor, best you do it yourselves instead of relegating me to the hired hands you feel are . . . adequate.”

“The day I ask you for a thing is the day I drop dead,” Fai replied pleasantly.

Ian chuckled.  “Oh?  So, it wasn’t your man who approached me, offering to sell the European side of your jurisdiction to me?  It should have been mine, to start with, anyway, given that it does belong with Europe.  How about you show your good will by just signing it over, Faine?”

Fai frowned.  “Evgeni, you mean?  He approached you?”

“Said you needed the funds, that you’d entirely mismanaged your jurisdiction for years now—did you know about that, Sesshoumaru?  If you wish to start interfering, perhaps you ought to start here . . .”

Bristling at the insinuation, Fai clenched his jaw as he counted to twenty in an effort to control his rising irritation.  A strange thought occurred to him, and he narrowed his gaze.  “Did you know, MacDonnough?” he demanded quietly.  “Did you know that Evgeni hid the tai-youkai account from me?”

“Does it matter if I did?  It’s not my jurisdiction.  If you’re gullible enough to believe everyone at face-value, then you truly don’t deserve to be in charge here, now do you?”

“One does not and cannot buy and sell parts of their jurisdictions just because someone else might will it to be so,” Sesshoumaru interrupted before Fai could respond in kind.

“A damn shame,” MacDonnough replied.

“Anyway, about those camps,” Jude said, leaning forward, rapping his knuckles against the coffee table to regain a semblance of order.  “Do you honestly think that you can save them?  Even if you are able to bring the facility down—free the slaves, as it were . . . What kind of lives do you expect them to have outside the confines of what they’ve been raised to know?  Have you considered, just what kind of psychological damage has been done to these slaves already?  How are you going to un-do a lifetime of only knowing what they’ve been taught to believe will be the entire existence of their lives?”

Eduardo sighed.  “We hope that they can be rehabilitated.  Extensive therapies, teaching them that they possess freedom of choice.  We don’t expect that it will be simple or even easy, but we’re committed to trying.  All beings deserve the fundamental freedom to live, to breathe, to choose their own paths.”

Jude slowly shook his head, and he didn’t look like he was scoffing at Eduardo, but he didn’t look convinced, either.  “Those are pretty words, Ed,” he remarked, sounding almost sad.  “Maybe a little too idealistic, is all . . .”

“Possibly,” Eduardo agreed.  “I still have to believe that it can be done.”

“Has anyone else heard anything?  Whispers or rumors that might have been easily disregarded?  Because, to believe that South America is the only place where something like this could flourish is idealistic, too,” Toga added.  “I know that I’ve heard some whispers of a black-market slave trade in Japan, and I’ve been trying to gather intel on it, but, as far as I can tell, it’s not nearly the size and scope of your problem, Eduardo-san.”

“That’s not exactly the same, Toga,” Cain remarked.  “From what you’ve said before, the slaves that enter that system do so willingly.”

Toga nodded.  “They work off debts for themselves or their families, and they are released from their contracts once they manage to pay it.  It’s more like indentured servitude, I guess . . . and I don’t think that they’re abused in quite the same manner as what your Korin described.  I still feel that it’s wrong, but . . .”

“If they put themselves there willingly, then that’s a whole other creature,” Jude allowed.  “I’d like to say I’m positive that something like this isn’t going on in my jurisdiction, but there are some isolated areas where it’s harder to police.  I’ll send in some of my men—check out those areas thoroughly.  Things like this abomination cannot be allowed to exist.”

“There’s a good chance that an operation like this could easily exist in Africa,” Amon Kouri, the future African tai-youkai remarked thoughtfully.  He was a quiet man, a very serious sort.  He’d barely said anything since being introduced.  He wasn’t unfriendly, no, but he seemed to be more inclined just to listen, to absorb.  It was a quality that Fai could fully respect . . . “Between the tribal wars and the general dissent between vying factions that’s so rampant . . .”

“And just how good is your man you sent in?” Sesshoumaru asked, leveling a no-nonsense look at the South American tai-youkai.

Eduardo shook his head.  “He’s a second-generation hunter.  His father is one of the very best.  He’s done well so far, but he’s only been in place a few months, so he hasn’t managed to dig too deeply into the identities of those in the highest reaches of the organization yet.”

“A second-generation hunter,” Gunnar remarked thoughtfully.  “And you’re sure that he isn’t in danger of having his identity revealed?  Even the best hunters eventually gain a level of notoriety that makes undercover work far more dangerous.”

Eduardo nodded.  “That occurred to me.  However, it was a calculated risk—one that he was more than willing to take on.  He is caiman-youkai, like his father, but those are fairly common around South America.  He’s banking on that to keep him safe enough.  We told him just to find out who the top people are and to get out as quickly as he can . . .”

“Keep us all informed,” Cain said.

“Like Zelig said, if there’s anything at all we can do to help, don’t hesitate to let us know,” Fai added.

Eduardo nodded, his small smile full of gratitude, even while his gaze was clouded with the inevitable concern he had to be carrying with him every moment of the day . . .

The office door opened, and Ryomaru stomped inside.  “Saori asked me to tell you that the families from South America are ready to leave,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, his hanyou ears flicking impatiently.

Eduardo stood up.  “Thank you,” he said, striding over, slipping past Ryomaru.  Since the South American families were all booked onto flights in the morning, then it was the last time for Eduardo to speak to them before they left.

Some of the other tai-youkai followed Eduardo, though, since the meeting seemed to be breaking up anyway, which was fine with Fai.  Given the things he’d heard, there were a few things that weighed rather heavily on his mind, anyway . . .

Sesshoumaru stood up to leave, as well, only to be stopped at the threshold when Ryomaru stepped past him, planting himself firmly in the doorway, blocking Ian MacDonnough, who had been following Sesshoumaru.

“Get out of my way,” MacDonnough growled, all the hatred, all the animosity, that he harbored, flowing freely in his aura, in his youki.  It was a vile and accursed thing, almost akin to jyaki, and it lingered in the air like a poison.

The only change in Ryomaru’s stance was the flicking of his ears again.  “Ask me how your daughter is, MacDonnough-sama,” Ryomaru said, his voice deceptively calm despite the anger that resonated in his youki.

“Ryomaru,” Sesshoumaru said, touching the hanyou’s shoulder.

Ryomaru shook him off without bothering to look at his esteemed uncle.  “Ask me about Meara, you bastard.”

MacDonnough’s expression didn’t change at all, his slate grey eyes as cold and impassive as ever.  “I have no daughter by that name,” he responded tightly, arrogantly.

“I’ll bet you don’t,” Ryomaru growled.

“It ain’t worth it, pup.”

Fai turned to stare over Ryomaru’s shoulder, past Sesshoumaru, at the Hanyou of Legend, who was leaning in the doorway.  “Give me one reason to cut you down.  It don’t even have to be a good one,” Ryomaru snarled under his breath, taking a step closer to the European tai-youkai.

The irate flare in Ian’s aura was unmistakable as he glowered past Ryomaru at his father.  “I don’t need the likes of you interfering on your son’s behalf,” Ian ground out.  “Disgusting vermin, the lot of you.”

“Keh!  I’ve defeated better than you many times,” InuYasha growled back.  “Issue a hunt for your own kin?  What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What I do is none of your business.  She made her choice.  Now she has to live with it.”

“It wasn’t about making a choice, you bastard,” InuYasha snarled, pushing past his half-brother, shoving Ryomaru aside as he planted himself directly before Ian MacDonnough.  “He’s her mate—do you get that?  _Her mate!_ ”

MacDonnough narrowed his already icy gaze on the hanyou.  “If she—if _he_ —steps foot in my jurisdiction, ever again, I will have them killed on sight, period.  She is nothing to me— _nothing_ . . . and you—the lot of you—are _less_ than nothing to me.”

InuYasha reached for the hilt of his sword.  Ryomaru was faster, drawing his sword, leveling it at MacDonnough in one clean motion.  “Care to threaten them again?”

Ian opened his mouth to speak.  Sesshoumaru heaved a loud sigh.  “Don’t be a fool, Ian.  Either one of those two could defeat you with very little effort.  They, too, share the blood of my father.  Hanyou or not, it does not matter.  As I’ve told you, the blood of my father is far superior to the blood that runs through your veins.  However, if you are fool enough to try them, then I shall not interfere—and you will know that I spoke truth.”

Ian glowered at Sesshoumaru for a long moment.  Then he swept past them all and strode out of the office.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Posting early because it’s storming here off and on, and when it does, the internet sometimes wobbles, so enjoy tomorrow’s chapter early_!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020 ——— Goldeninugoddess
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— minthegreen ——— Amanda Gauger ——— Minzee
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _Youkai slavery_ …?


	62. 61: Normalcy

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_61_** ~~  
~ ** _Normalcy_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Something was bothering Fai.

Staring down from the balcony of their bedroom, Saori frowned thoughtfully as she watched her new mate, wandering through the rolling garden behind the castle.  That he’d woken up long before she had was normal enough.  But he wasn’t in their bed when she opened her eyes a few minutes ago, and that was strange.

She’d spotted him easily enough when she’d stepped outside after donning her robe.

It had been a couple days since the last of the visitors had gone—the final ones to leave being Rinji and her parents, who had flown out two days ago after promising that they’d come visit soon.  It left her feeling a little lost, a little alone, but adjusting to her new life was worth it, too.

Now the problem for her was trying to find something to fill in time since her job for Fai was done—or so she’d thought.  Yesterday, he’d mentioned to her that he wanted her to start looking into properties nearby.  After hiring a couple of contractors to look over the old orphanage, they’d come to the conclusion that Fai had originally suspected—that the old place was too far gone to really make renovations worthwhile.  To that end, he’d decided that the whole operation might as well be moved closer.  He’d said that he’d like to be a little more hands-on with the orphans that they still had, and Saori had loved that idea, too.  So, he’d put her in charge of selecting a site with either buildings they could work with or one that they could build from scratch.

He didn’t like the fact that Sesshoumaru had insisted that he reimburse himself for the years that he’d been paying everything out of pocket.  She supposed that she could understand that, to a point.  He figured that he could easily pay for the new orphanage, even though the tai-youkai account had more than enough to cover that, too.  She had a few appointments in the next couple days to look at a few potential sites.  One of them was almost adjacent to Fai’s land, and she’d driven past it but hadn’t stopped to really get a feel for it yet . . .

But that wasn’t what was bothering him.  She could sense the unrest in his youki, even when he tried to say that nothing was wrong.  The only reason she hadn’t confronted him about it was because she also had the feeling that he wasn’t entirely sure what he thought for himself—and she figured that he would tell her whenever he was ready.  Besides, it was her responsibility to make him comfortable, wasn’t it?  To ensure that his home was as calm and peaceful as it could possibly be—a haven away from the things that usually troubled him, and, given his position, she knew well enough that those things were many and varied . . .

As if he sensed her quiet presence, he turned suddenly, his head lifting, and, even from the distance, she knew he saw her.  She waved at him, felt her youki stretch out, seeking his, and when they connected, she laughed softly.

He turned, vaulted off the ground, managed to reach the balcony in a few long hops, where he lit next to her with a smile that brightened his eyes despite the lingering worry that still clung to him, and she sighed as she reached up to tousle his hair, to use her fingers to comb through it.  “I meant to be back by the time you woke up,” he told her, his tone taking on an apologetic kind of lilt.

She shook her head, slipping her arms around his neck.  “I don’t mind,” she told him.  Then, she laughed.  “Well, okay, waking up in a big old bed all alone is a little disappointing . . .”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her as he leaned against the railing.  “Is that right?”

She nodded.  “I suppose you have a full day planned?  Making your life-altering decisions . . . playing Masters of the Universe . . .?”

He rolled his eyes.  “I feel like you’re making fun of me,” he told her.  “Are you?”

She giggled.  “No . . . Well, maybe, just a little . . .”

He snorted.  “I thought so.”

“So . . . What do you have planned while I’m out, looking over a couple properties for the new orphanage?”

His lips twitched slightly.  Resting her cheek against his chest, she didn’t see it.  “What else?  Making life-altering decisions and playing Masters of the Universe.”

She laughed and leaned back far enough to peer up into his face.  “You sure you don’t have time to come with me?  What if you don’t like the one I pick?”

He kissed her forehead.  “It’s your project, I told you.  You make the decisions, and I’ll be satisfied with whatever you do.”

He looked serious enough.  He looked like he actually meant what he said.  Even so, she couldn’t help the hint of anxiety when she considered just how much responsibility he’d given her.  “Fai . . .”

He sighed, but it was a contented kind of sound.  “Hmm?”

“I . . . I just don’t want to mess this up,” she ventured quietly.  “It’s such a big deal—it’s your mother’s project, right?  And I—”

“It’s your project, too, isn’t it?  I . . . I feel like it is . . . You care, and you’re good at finding placements for them.  The ones that come in, the young ones . . . They need someone like you, looking after them, trying to find the best homes for them because you were right when you said that they don’t belong in a place like that.  Even if we were able to make it a nice place, it’s not ever going to take the place of a real home . . .”

She blinked, smiled at him.  “You’re a good man, Fai,” she told him.  “All right, then.  I think . . . I think I can do it.”

He chuckled.  “I know you can.”

“You know, I was thinking earlier . . . This castle is so quiet, isn’t it?  Now that everyone’s gone back home . . . and I know that you wanted to wait to start a family.  I’m okay with that.  Maybe working with the children again will be good for me.”

“Is that some weird way for you to try to hint that you want a baby, Saori?” he countered, scooting back to sit on the railing, his knees apart as he pulled her between them, idly playing with the long strands of her hair.

She giggled.  “No, not at all.  I was just thinking earlier that maybe I should look for a job—a real job—but then, you said you wanted me to work with the children, and . . . and I like that idea—a lot.”

He shrugged.  “Well, if you’re still looking for something to keep you busy, there’s always the east wing of the castle . . .”

“Isn’t it haunted?”

He snorted.  “Don’t tell me you believe in stuff like that.  You don’t, do you?”

She shrugged.  “You never know.  It could be real.”

He grunted and rolled his eyes.  “Hardly,” he muttered.  “You’ve been talking to Yerik too much.  When he was little, he went in there one day and he swore that the door closed and locked him in.  It’s true that the door had a faulty lock that tended to catch, but that was all it was.  Yerik just had an overactive imagination; that’s all.”

“Poor Yerik-kun . . .” she said, shaking her head slowly.  “You aren’t being very supportive of him . . .”

“I’m very supportive of him,” Fai argued.  “I never sent him off to an orphanage, now did I?”

She gasped, then rolled her eyes.  “You’re so mean, Fai-sama.”

“Back to the -sama again, are we?”

She shrugged.  “Only when you’re being mean.”

He chuckled.  “As if I would have . . .”

“Speaking of Yerik-kun, where did he go?”

Fai scratched his chin thoughtfully.  “I had an errand I needed him to take care of.  I sent him to verify a story for me.”

“A story?  What kind of story?”

“A man who was found, drained of much of his blood . . . He kept telling this tale that he was attacked by vampires, that he escaped them—managed to get away.  Now, it’s possible that he was just hallucinating, but . . .”

“But you wanted to make sure he was?  Fai-sama, there are no such thing as vampires.”

He nodded.  “True, but there are blood-youkai.”

She shot him a dark look.  “They’re extinct . . .”

“Actually, they’re not.  They haven’t caused trouble in a very long time, though, so odds are that the guy is just telling some weird story, but it doesn’t hurt to check it out.”

“When will he be back?”

“I don’t know . . . a few days, maybe?

She hugged him tight, rose up on her toes to kiss him.  “Okay . . . Now, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“What do you mean?” he hedged.

“Aren’t you the one who told me that I needed to tell you if something bothered me?”

He shrugged.  “Do as I say, not as I do?”

She snorted.  “Cute, Fai-sama.”

He grunted.  “I am _not_ being mean.”

“Arguable . . . You’re my mate.  That means you can’t keep things from me,” she told him.  “You’re the one who told me that I’m your equal— _equal_ —which means that you have to tell me things—that you don’t get to decide what you tell me and what you don’t.”

“Wow, you’re kind of tough,” he pointed out.

“Thank you.”

He nodded.  “And very pretty.”

“Thank you.”

“And absolutely gorgeous with your hair, still tousled from what we were doing last night . . .”

She narrowed her eyes and stepped back from him, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Yeah, that’s not working,” she grumbled, despite the heightened color that flooded into her cheeks.

He chuckled and tugged her back against him.  “What’s not working?”

She wrinkled her nose.  “Trying to distract me,” she told him.  “You’re going to tell me what’s bothering you, and you’re not going to tell me that it’s nothing.”

He smiled, but not before she saw the flash of guilt on his face.  “I . . . Well, to be honest, I don’t know what to do.”

“About?”

He didn’t answer right away.  Letting his arms drop away as he grasped her hand and pulled her back into the bedroom, he left her there just inside the doors while he wandered over to pour a cup of coffee on the breakfast tray that had been brought up while she was outside, watching him.  “Evgeni,” he admitted, lifting the cup to his lips.  “I . . . I want to question him, but the odds that I’ll get a real answer out of him?”  He shook his head as she wandered over to grab a glass of juice.  “I’m not going to.  Father’s diary mentioned him.  It said that he was trying to undermine his authority, but he wasn’t sure why.  I mean, it’d be easy to say that he simply wanted to cause unrest, hoping that Father would be challenged or something, and it did happen, but the youkai knew that Father wasn’t one who could be so easily beaten, either.”

“And you think that’s what he’s been doing now?” she asked, setting the glass down, picking up a slice of black bread.  “Then why doesn’t he just challenge you outright?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe he thinks he couldn’t beat me.  Maybe he has no desire to try to win the seat of tai-youkai from me . . . I’m not sure, and the only one who knows . . . Well, I doubt he’ll tell me, even if I confront him.”

“But why would he go to the trouble of . . . of doing all of this?  It seems like it would just be simpler to either challenge you or to find someone else to do it . . .”

He nodded slowly.  “That’s what bothers me.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

This time, he sighed.  “That’s just it.  I don’t know.”  Setting the mug down, he paced the length of the room and back, hands on hips, scowl on his face.  “What he’s done amounts to treason—keeping the account information from me, spreading rumors to try to undermine me, especially in regards to the regents . . . I’ve killed five of them, Saori—five of them—all because they heard the rumors, they got frightened, and they challenged me, and all the while, he . . . He _knew_ . . .”

She frowned.  He was angry, and rightfully so, but it was the underlying sense of confusion, of hurt, that she couldn’t stomach.  Those emotions . . . Maybe he didn’t realize that they were there—maybe he didn’t even sense them.  She could feel them, though . . . and the ugly sense of righteous indignation on his behalf, even hatred, surged through her: hot, frothing, almost overwhelming . . .

Fai sighed.  “It’s not as simple as just issuing a hunt for him.  I could do that, certainly, but I wouldn’t get answers . . . And then, there’s you . . .”

“Me?”

He nodded.  “He doesn’t know your connection to Sesshoumaru, and . . . and I think it’s better that way, but the thing is, about the time he realizes that you’re my mate—my true mate . . .”

She narrowed her eyes, swallowing a bite of bread that somehow tasted akin to a mouthful of sawdust.  “You think he’d threaten me?”

He shook his head.  A sudden and almost frightening kind of coldness slipped over his features, and she opened her mouth, to try to diffuse whatever thought had just come to him.  “Fai—”

“I want you to go home, Saori.”

“Fai?”

He stared at her for several long moments.  “I need you to go back to Tokyo, just for a little while—until I’ve dealt with him.”

“I won’t,” she stated flatly, glowering at him as her stubbornness kicked in.  “I belong here with you!”

Again, he shook his head.  “You do,” he allowed, stepping over to her, grasping her arms in his hands.  “Don’t ask me how I know.  It’s just a feeling, and . . . and I can’t ignore it.  You’re not safe here.  When he finds out that we’re mates, the easiest way to hurt me will be to hurt you because your life is mine, and mine is yours . . . Do you understand?  I . . . need . . . you . . . to . . . be . . . safe.”

She swallowed hard as she stared at him.  As much as she wanted to argue with him, she could see it, couldn’t she?  He believed what he was saying—absolutely believed it . . . He . . . He really was afraid for her . . .

He sighed, dragging her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her in an almost stifling embrace.  “It’s just for a little while,” he told her, as though he were trying to soften the blow.  “You’re everything to me— _everything_ . . . You . . . You mean more to me than anything—than my office, than my own life . . . and I have to know that you’re safe.”

She closed her eyes, her hands wrapping tight around fistfuls of his shirt.  Then, she sighed.  “I’ll . . . I’ll call and book a flight,” she told him.  “You’ll . . . You’ll be careful . . .?”

He couldn’t even manage a smile as he stared at her, as he kissed her forehead and hugged her tight again.  “I will,” he promised.  “I . . . I will . . .”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Early today ‘cause I’m bored_ …
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** MiPuraReina ——— Anonymous
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Amanda Gauger ——— Monsterkittie ——— minthegreen ——— Minzee ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— lovethedogs ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
> … _Home_ …


	63. 62: Fortuitous Meetings

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_62_** ~~  
~ ** _Fortuitous Meetings_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori stomped into Sesshoumaru’s office without bothering to stop and knock, causing her grandfather to cock an eyebrow as she literally threw herself into a chair with a darkened scowl on her face, a mulish set to her full lips.  She’d taken a taxi straight from the airport, had done nothing, really, but fume pretty much the entire time, from the moment Fai had dropped her off at the airport earlier in the afternoon until now.

“Is this your way of saying that you’re dissatisfied with your mate?” he asked, his normally dry tone, entirely unruffled by her unceremonious entrance.

She snorted.  “Oh, no, I’m very satisfied with him.  I’m just . . . just mad at him; that’s all.”

Her response was enough to make Sesshoumaru narrow his eyes on her.  “All right . . .”

Suddenly, her shoulders slumped, her chin lowered, as the bravado that had carried her through most of the day faltered and failed her.  “He . . . He sent me here,” she admitted quietly.  “He thinks that Evgeni-san is a threat to me . . .”

Sesshoumaru didn’t look at all surprised by her quiet statement.  “He’s probably right,” he allowed.  “Did he want you to stay here?”

“He didn’t say, but . . . but it’s safer here, right?  I mean, tou-chan . . . He doesn’t employ any security detail.  Fai said that Evgeni-san doesn’t know who my family is, but it’s not that hard to find out, either . . .”

He nodded slowly.  “And that’s why you came here instead of home.”

She sighed.  “I know he wouldn’t have asked me to come here if he weren’t worried,” she allowed, “but . . . but shouldn’t I be there with him?  He’s my _mate_ . . .”

“And at the risk of upsetting you further, granddaughter-of-mine, your mate made a prudent decision, sending you here.”

She made a face.  “But . . . But who’s going to watch out for him?”

Pushing himself out of his chair, Sesshoumaru strode over, retrieved two bottles of water out of the wetbar and handed her one.  “Your mate is quite capable of looking out for himself, though I suppose it wouldn’t be a problem if I were to call, get an update on things as they stand.”

“I know he’s capable,” Saori remarked, giving the cap a hard yank to break the seal.  “Yerik-kun is out on a job, and he’s there alone . . . His servants aren’t trained to fight . . . If Evgeni-san showed up . . . and even if he did, Fai . . .”

“Fai, what?” Sesshoumaru prompted when she trailed off.

“Fai cares about him.  For years, he’s been . . . closer than anyone—maybe even closer than Yerik-kun.  After all, he was just a child . . .”

Sesshoumaru considered that for a long moment, stepping over to the window, staring outside as he contemplated Saori’s words.  “You don’t believe that he can fight Evgeni?”

She sighed, rubbed her forehead.  “It’s not that I think he can’t,” she said.  “I’m . . . I’m afraid of what it’ll do to him if he has to . . .”

“Don’t discount Faine’s strength, Saori.”

“I’m not . . . It’s just that, when I think about it, if it were me?  I could do it.  If I had to fight to protect him, I could do it.  But I know that I . . . I wouldn’t _want_ to.”

The office door opened, and Kagura slipped inside.  “Saori!  I thought I sensed you . . . What are you doing here?”

Sesshoumaru turned, met his mate’s gaze.  “She’ll be staying with us for a bit—until Faine deals with Evgeni.  Why don’t you take Saori upstairs?  Call Aiko, too.”

Kagura nodded as Saori stood up.  He watched as they headed out of the office before turning back toward his desk once more.

It only took a moment to dial Faine’s number, and he settled back in his chair as he waited.  The Asian tai-youkai answered after the second ring.  “Sesshoumaru,” he said when the video feed connected.

“Faine, Saori just arrived.  We thought it best if she stays here with us, given that I have full security in place, and her father does not.  Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Fai sighed.  Even over the video connection, he looked a little haggard.  “It’s not that I wanted to send her home,” he began, the defensiveness in his tone evident.  “I just thought—”

“I agree with your reasons,” Sesshoumaru interrupted.  “Her parents will, too.  I want to know just what you’re planning and if I can help.”

Fai grunted.  “Since when does the Inu no Taisho interfere?”

“He isn’t.  Ojii-chan wants to know,” Sesshoumaru replied.

Fai blinked, smiled a little wanly.  “Of course . . .”

“Will you confront Evgeni?  Or will you simply issue a hunt order for him?”

This time, Fai shook his head.  “I think . . . I need to confront him.  I need to ask him what he was trying to do.  I . . . I don’t think he’ll give me any answers, but I have to try . . .”

Sesshoumaru nodded slowly.  “Saori is concerned about your feelings toward him,” he said.  “Will this be an issue for you?”

“An issue?  When he’s done nothing but lie and try to manipulate me from the very beginning?  When he—”

“And yet, you held him in the highest regard for a very long time, Faine.  So, humor me when I ask you: can you do this?  Is it within you to do this without letting it break you?”

“There is no question,” Fai replied darkly, leveling a no-nonsense glower at the camera.  “I will not live in fear that he will show up one day, that he’ll attack Saori, just to hurt me—to kill me.”

Sesshoumaru digested that for a long minute.  Hadn’t he heard nearly the same thing before?  The same flashing gaze, the same righteous indignation . . . only back then, it was too late, and . . . “Faine.”

“Yeah?”

“The reports on your mother’s death—the fire.  They were all verified, weren’t they?”

“Yeah, um . . . Of course, they were.  They were all filed when the official investigation concluded.  Why?”

He drummed his claws on the desk, wondering if he really ought to tell Fai, if it would make a difference at all—or if it would simply add fuel to an already capricious situation . . . In the end, though . . . “Understand that the last time I spoke with Alexei, he was . . . He was degenerating fast.  It could simply have been the ramblings of a man who was barely hanging on, but . . . But he was quite insistent that the fire was deliberate—that Evgeni or one of his people might have tampered with the system . . .”

Fai shook his head, his confusion a near-palpable thing.  “But . . . Wh . . .? He . . . He thought . . .?”

“As I said, it could be entirely unfounded.  It’s not the first time that a house has suffered faulty workmanship, and it’s highly plausible that what they found was accurate—a horrible and tragic accident.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Fai growled, fangs flashing as his lips curled up in a marked grimace.

“I don’t know, Faine.  I can only tell you what he said.  It’s possible that he didn’t want to burden you with that.  After all, by then, the damage was already done.”

“But I wouldn’t have trusted Evgeni at all if he’d said that to me!” Fai snarled.  “Damn it, I—”

“And your reaction right now?  That’s likely why he kept it from you.  I don’t tell you this to upset you more.”

“Yeah?  Then why the hell did you tell me?”

Sesshoumaru sat back, waited a few moments for Fai to calm down enough to hear him.  “Should you go find Evgeni—should you demand answers from him . . . If he were to claim responsibility for that fire, I would rather that you knew of the possibility now than to be blindsided by it later.”

Fai stood up, stomped away from the desk.  He returned a minute later with a very full glass of vodka.  “Understood,” he said.  He sounded slightly more under control, though not by much.  “Father . . . He had no proof, did he?”

“No, there never was.  Now, I will ask you, not as the Inu no Taisho, but as Saori’s ojii-chan: before you go looking for him, you will call me—and you will get your rage under control.”

Fai looked like he wanted to yell, to growl.  In the end, though, he nodded.  “I will.”

 

* * *

 

 

Saori woke up with a heavy sigh and a thick dose of disorientation.  It took her a minute to figure out, just where she was and why.  When she did, she made a face and flopped over onto her side to bury her face into the pillow, only to find herself, staring at her brother, who was calmly stretched out beside her, sitting up, looking over some emails on his tablet.

“Hey, Chan-chan.  Long time, no see,” he quipped.

She snorted, not even attempting to play along with his dry sense of humor.  “Why are you in my bed?” she demanded flatly.

Rinji chuckled.  “Ojii-san called otou-san and said that you were here.  Fai-sama thinks you’re in danger?”

She sat up and shrugged, leaning against Rinji’s arm.  For some reason, she just needed a physical reminder of the stability she was far from feeling, and before Fai, Rinji had always been one of the ones to give her that.  “But he’s alone, nii-chan . . . and I hate that he’s alone.”

Rinji frowned.  “Is Yerik-kun out on a hunt?”

She nodded.  “An assignment, yes . . .”

“What about Kostya?”

She shook her head.  “He wasn’t there when I left, and I don’t think he was expected, either.  I’d ask jii-chan, but I don’t want Fai to think that I believe he can’t handle himself . . . I know he can . . .”

Rinji nodded slowly.  “But he’s believed that Evgeni’s been his friend all this time,” he concluded.  “You know . . . Maybe you’re underestimating him.  I know you don’t mean to, but he’s mentally tougher than you’re giving him credit for.  He’s tai-youkai for a reason.  Kami only knows he’s been challenged often enough that if he wasn’t good enough, he’d have been defeated a long time ago.”

She snorted.  “You think I’m just worried for nothing.”

Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he didn’t disagree with her right away.  “I think that it’s natural to be worried about your mate, sure.  I also think that you need to believe in him.  I may not know him as well as you do, but I got a good enough feel for him to know that he isn’t the kind to overreact without a decent reason.  Besides, it probably took some doing to swallow his pride and to send you here.  Most men would convince themselves that they could and should defend their mates, no matter what.  Hell, look at most of the men in our family.  I don’t know, if it came down to it, that any of them would have sent you here.  It’d be like admitting that you’re not able to watch out for—to take care of—your precious ones.”

“I . . . I know,” she muttered, hating to admit that her brother had a very valid point.  “I’ve just been trying to figure out why Evgeni-san has gone to such trouble.  I . . . I can’t fathom how much of a monster someone has to be to do what he’s done . . .” Heaving a sigh, she shrugged, almost as though it was all she could do.  “To go to the lengths of pretending to be Fai’s friend?  To do all that, just to . . . to hurt him . . .?”

Rinji sighed, leveling a thoughtful scowl at her that lingered for several minutes.  “Do you want me to go back?  To help watch out for him?”

She bit her lip.  On the one hand, yes, she did.  On the other . . .?  “I . . . I don’t know if he’d be all right with that,” she admitted.

He considered that, then he slowly nodded, reaching over, retrieving her cell phone off the nightstand.  “In case you were wondering, he texted you a few . . . _hundred_ . . . times while you were sleeping.”

She gasped, snatching the phone away from him.  “Why didn’t you wake me up?  Or tell me that first?” she growled.

He rolled his eyes.  “Because I texted him and told him you were sleeping, and he said to let you sleep.”

She wasn’t pleased with that answer, either.

He missed her.

That was the gist of the texts—all of them—and something about it brought tears to her eyes.  Rinji sighed beside her, pulling her against his side and gently kissing the top of her head.  “You’ll be back together before you know it,” he told her, rubbing her arm in the same way that he had since she was a small child.  “Then, you’ll have the rest of your lives together . . . Don’t cry, okay?”

She sniffled and nodded, biting back the tears that threatened to spill over.  “I know,” she said, unable to keep the slight sharpness out of her voice.  “I _hate_ this . . .”

“I know,” he told her, giving her a little reassuring squeeze.  “I know . . .”

 

* * *

 

 

Settling back in the desk chair as he sipped a glass of vodka and frowned at the open window, Fai heaved a sigh and tried not to think about the idea that his new mate of less than two weeks was out of the country—out of his sight.

He’d called Vladimir Gostoyev at the bank, had questioned him in depth as to what he knew in regards to the tai-youkai account.  Though Fai hadn’t had much experience in interacting with him, he also had met him a few times, and Vladimir had been at Evgeni’s Kupala celebration.  He’d been in the office the night when Evgeni had dared to question Fai . . . According to him, he’d handed over all the account information to Evgeni, who had said at the time that he was coming over, that he’d be happy to drop it off, which, of course, he only partially did.

Two sealed envelopes, the man had said.  He’d given them both to Evgeni, and that was the end of it—he’d said.  He’d also been a little reluctant to answer Fai’s questions, too—at least, that was how Fai felt about it.  There was a chance he could be just a little paranoid, but he didn’t think so . . .

Besides calling Vladimir to check into the whole situation with the tai-youkai account, he’d also meant to speak to them about adding Saori onto his personal account, but, given the way Vladimir had acted, he hadn’t felt comfortable in bringing that up.  As much as he didn’t like it, his instincts screamed at him to hold off on it—to try to keep things on the downlow until after the situation with Evgeni was resolved.

All in all, the entire situation really stunk, and that just figured.  After talking to the banker, he’d called the few people who had been at the wedding, asking them to keep things quiet, at least, until after he figured out what to do.  If he didn’t feel so strongly that there really might well be a threat made against Saori . . .

‘ _Well, everyone but Ian MacDonnough . . ._ ’

Fai snorted.  Okay, so he’d called everyone but MacDonnough, and to be honest, there wasn’t a thing on earth that could get him to call that particular person, ever.

“ _Said you needed the funds, that you’d entirely mismanaged your jurisdiction for years now—did you know about that, Sesshoumaru?  If you wish to start interfering, perhaps you ought to start here_ . . . _Does it matter if I did?  It’s not my jurisdiction.  If you’re gullible enough to believe everyone at face-value, then you truly don’t deserve to be in charge here, now do you?_ ”

Just the memory of those words, of his haughty arrogance, was enough to make him want to rip something to shreds.

Two more days before Evgeni would be back from the shopping trip.

Dragging a hand over his face, he stifled a frustrated growl.  Everything Evgeni had told MacDonnough . . .? And if he’d told him that much, the just how much had he spilled to others?  Was it worse to feel like a complete and utter dupe or that he’d been blinded to it for so long when the truth of it was staring him in the face . . . Every time Evgeni had challenged him, had suggested that maybe he wasn’t making good choices . . .?  And Fai had just brushed it all off as pessimistic concern . . .

He grimaced.  Damn, he was stupid, wasn’t he?

‘ _Come on, Faine.  Do you really want to do this?  Do you know how destructive it is?  Okay, so maybe you should have, could have, might have, may not have . . . In the end, you realize, don’t you?  You can tear yourself down, or you can rise above.  Guess which one I think you should do . . . Guess which one Saori would want you to do . . ._ ’

“Saori . . .”

A crisp knock on the office door drew his attention, and Fai sat up.  “Come in.”

Vasili stepped into the room with a deep inclination of his head.  “Your Grace, there is a Taine Izanagi here to see you.”

Fai shook his head.  “Who?”

Vasili grimaced rather apologetically.  “Forgive me, Your Grace.  He gave his name and said that he would only speak with you.”

Fai frowned thoughtfully.  “Okay, then.  Please show him in.”

Vasili nodded and backed out of the office.

Taine Izanagi . . .? The name didn’t ring a bell.

The butler returned a few minutes later with a very tall and lanky youkai in tow—a dog-youkai.

“Your Grace, this is Master Taine Izanagi.  Master Taine, this is His Grace, Faine Demyanov.  Do you require anything?”

“No, Vasili.  That’s all for now,” Fai replied, dismissing the butler as he slowly rose to his feet.  “Izanagi . . . I can’t say I’m familiar with that name,” he admitted slowly.  “Is there something I can do for you?”

The strange dog smiled around a lollipop that was stowed in his cheek, but it seemed almost predatory—a quirking of the corners of his lips that didn’t quite touch his eyes.  Bright red hair—fiery, flame red hair—that hung to about his mid-back in lengthy and almost crazy layers from his long bangs that fell over his bright brown eyes . . . Aristocratic features that were softly rounded at the edges, giving him an overall far more youthful face . . . Something about the way he looked, though . . . “It’s not really something you can do for me, exactly,” he said, his tone touched by an accent.  It wasn’t quite Australian in deviation, but it was close . . . “It’s something I think I can do for you.”

“Oh?” Fai replied, arching his eyebrows as he stepped around the desk, only to lean back against it, crossing his arms over his chest.  “And what would that be?”

Taine chuckled.  “I’m looking for a job,” he said.  “I’m a hunter.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— minthegreen ——— NyteAngel ——— Amanda Gauger
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _A hunter_ …?


	64. 63: Separation

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_63_** ~~  
~ ** _Separation_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“A hunter?” Fai repeated.  “Do you have experience?”

Taine shrugged, slipping over, filling a glass with vodka without bothering to ask if it was all right.  “Officially, no, but I assure you, my skills are many and varied.  Besides, I hear that you’re in need of hunters here.”

Ignoring the very deliberate slight as he watched the would-be hunter, slowly, casually, lean against the bar as he tipped the glass to his full lips still without removing the sucker, Fai shook his head.  “Where are you from?  I might have guessed Australia, but that’s not quite right, is it?  New Zealand?”

He smiled, and this time, it actually looked genuine.  “Damn, it’s the accent, right?  Yes, I’m from Auckland.”

Fai nodded slowly.  “Then you’re from Jude Covington’s jurisdiction.  Why not ask him for a job?”

Dragging a long-fingered hand through his crazy red hair, he shrugged.  “He’s got more than enough hunters,” Taine remarked in a rather off the cuff kind of way.  “That aside, I just happened to be here in the country, and I heard about your lack of hunters . . . I figured it would benefit the both of us.”

“Who did you hear that from?”

Taine gave a rather offhanded shrug.  “Maxim Korinovich.  He hired me to gather some intel on a couple of the warring factions up in his regency—the Bershetoyev and the Kyranyovitch tribes.”

Fai frowned, recalling his own run-in with the Bershetoyevs just after he’d met Saori.  “He hasn’t mentioned trouble with them,” he pointed out.

“There wasn’t trouble, exactly.  Maxim said that he’d heard rumors that they were rather subtly upping their little war.  Something about one of the Bershetoyevs being shot earlier this year?  But, from the information I gathered, you might already have some knowledge about that, Your Grace?”

Fai nodded.  “I guess I do,” he allowed mildly before leaning back in his chair, narrowing his gaze thoughtfully on the man, who either didn’t notice or wasn’t concerned that he was being scrutinized.  Easy grace, that’s what he possessed—the kind of almost aristocratic kind of elegance that one either possessed or never would, and even if one was born with that, it was a rare trait . . . “So, Maxim would give you a good reference if I were to call him?”

Taine shrugged again.  “I’m not really at liberty to make that kind of assumption,” he concluded.  “I would say that my work for him was satisfactory, but I was not the employer, so . . .”

“Izanagi . . . That’s not a New Zealand last name,” Fai went on thoughtfully.

“To hear my mother tell it, she is originally from Japan,” Taine said.  “Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all . . . I just wondered.

Taine nodded slowly.  “Curious?  I get that.”

Fai nodded, too, continuing to size up the fellow.  Something about him . . . It wasn’t that Fai distrusted him, per se, but he also couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was something that Taine was leaving out.  Of course, it didn’t matter, really, as long as he was able to do the job he was after—and as long as he wasn’t there to try to undermine Fai, and that wasn’t the feeling, anyway.  No, it was simply the feeling that there was more to Taine’s reasoning than he had said thus far . . . “You had no interest in asking Toga Inutaisho for a job?”

Taine shrugged.  “He has more than enough very capable hunters at his disposal, too, doesn’t he?  I doubt he’d have a use for me.”

Still, there was something about the man that struck Fai as strange, off . . . Something . . . But . . .

“I don’t have a formal resume, per se, but I’m more than willing to spar with you, if that would convince you of my abilities,” he went on, oblivious to the conflicted thoughts that were running rampant in Fai’s head.

Fai slowly shook his head.  “Have you ever killed anyone before?  That is to say, it’s not an easy thing to reconcile.”

Scratching his chin, Taine nodded.  “Not . . . in a long time.”

Fai was listening—sort of.  Suddenly, though, his eyes flared then narrowed.  “You barely have a scent,” he blurted.  “Why?”

Taine blinked then shrugged with a calculated nonchalance.  “Easier to do my job, wouldn’t you say?”

“You don’t have a job yet,” Fai reminded him.

Taine chuckled.  “Fair enough . . . Ragwort.”

“Ragwort?”

“It’s a plant—pretty hard to come by unless you know where to find it.  If you steep the leaves and drink the extract, it alters your scent for a time,” he explained.  “It’s a fairly arduous process, but my mother is pretty good at doing it.”

“I see . . .” Fai allowed at length.  “Look, Taine . . . While it’s true that we are in need of hunters, you tell me you have no real experience or anything else to recommend you but some vague mention of various skills and talents?  That’s really . . .”

Taine chuckled.  It was more of a friendly kind of sound.  “I tell you what.  Do you have anything you need done right now?  Send me out on a job.  If I accomplish it, you hire me.  If I don’t?  Well, then you won’t be out a thing, given that I’ll be dead, right?”

Fai frowned.  It was one thing to be sure of oneself, but Taine’s attitude bordered upon almost reckless . . . Either he really was as good as he claimed or . . . “I have a report regarding an elk-youkai in Siberia who killed a number of humans a few years ago near Moscow.  We know he did it, but we don’t know—or really care—why.  Five children, all under the age of ten, a woman—three of the children were hers, and the other two were her nieces . . . They were at a zoo, and, according to eye witnesses, he walked up to them and—they say—he detonated some kind of homemade bomb.  Now, we know it was an energy attack, but . . . Anyway, I’ll send you after him.  You take him down and report back.  If it’s beyond your capability, though, don’t endanger yourself.  If you manage to silence him, then we’ll discuss the terms of your employment.”

“Fair enough,” Taine allowed, finally popping the lollipop out of his mouth—well, the stick, anyway—that he slipped into his pocket.  “Do you have a file on him?”

Fai stared at him for a long minute before pulling the small kit out of his desk drawer and handing it over.  “Everything’s there, including the official hunt order, along with a prepaid card that should be enough to pay for your travel expenses, along with lodging for your stay . . . The cell phone is prepaid, as well.  My number’s programmed in already, so if you run into trouble, contact me immediately.”

Unzipping the black leather bag, Taine looked through the things inside and nodded.  “I’ll take care of it,” he said, stowing the bag into the rather dilapidated, brown leather rucksack he’d carried in.  “Anything else?  Am I to call you as soon as the target’s silenced, then?”

“Standard protocol,” Fai replied.

The dog-youkai nodded again, but suddenly, the rather blank expression on his face took on a slight frown as he dropped the rucksack onto the sofa once more, crossing his arms over his chest as he stepped forward, eyes trained on the small photo that Saori had framed and set in the corner.  It was a picture from their wedding day—her with him, along with her parents and brother and Yerik.  Taine didn’t touch it, but he did narrow his gaze on it.  “Your mate,” he ventured, his tone, strange, almost brusque.  “And the silver-haired ones?  Those are her family?”

Fai gave one terse nod, unsure why the sudden interest in Saori or her kin, but something about the man’s demeanor . . . It was odd—not necessarily menacing, just . . . odd . . . “Her mother and her brother—the silver haired ones, anyway,” Fai allowed.

A tight little smile quirked the corners of Taine’s lips despite the heightened darkness in his gaze.  “They are related to Sesshoumaru, then . . . That one . . . He looks just like him . . .”

“She’s his granddaughter,” Fai replied.  “Do you have an issue with that?”

“No, of course not,” Taine said, turning away from the desk.  “I just didn’t realize that you held such close ties to that family.”

“Why?  Do you know them?”

“I . . . I know . . . _of_ them,” he said.  “I’ve never met them, though . . .”

Fai frowned as he settled back in his chair.  “If you have a problem with my mate’s family, perhaps you ought to go look elsewhere for work.”

Taine slowly lifted his gaze, stared at Fai for a long moment.  Then, he shrugged.  “I don’t,” he replied.  “I was just . . . caught off guard; that’s all.”

Considering that slowly, deliberately, Fai crossed his arms over his chest.  “Do you have something against them?”

Taine lifted his eyes but didn’t move his head.  “No, I don’t,” he said.  “I’ve always wondered about them.  That’s all.”

“Wondered?”

He nodded.  “It’s quite the dynasty, don’t you think?”

“Meaning?”

Tongue darting out, slowly licking his lips, as though he were considering his answer, he suddenly chuckled.  “Nothing, really.  Just . . . thinking out loud, I guess.”

Narrowing his eyes, Fai shook his head.  “You have to understand, and I have to ask.  You’re not a threat to my mate, are you?”

He looked surprised for a moment.  “A threat?  God, no . . . No, not at all.”

“And I can trust in that answer?”

He sighed.  “Given that you don’t know me?  Probably not.  However, I think you will come to find over time that I am a man of my word.”

For some reason, Fai wasn’t entirely satisfied with his answer, but he kept that to himself.  It wasn’t really his place to question it further, and as long as the man had no ulterior motives when it came to Saori, then he could keep his mysteries as long as it didn’t interfere with his ability to do his job as a hunter.  Besides, if it came down to it, Fai . . . Well, he was more than capable of protecting Saori from anyone and anything, even Taine Izanagi . . .

 

* * *

 

 

“Hello?”

“Evgeni . . . We need to talk.”

Scowling at the strange sense of near-panic in Vladimir Gostoyev’s voice, Evgeni shot his mate a tight smile as he stood up and excused himself from the small, intimate table in the cozy bistro.  “I’ll be back,” he told her before turning on his heel and walking away.  “What is it?” he demanded as he stepped outside, his voice lowered but no less effective.

The banker sighed.  “His Grace called,” he said, wasting no time in blurting out the facts.  “He wanted to know why he never got the information about the second account—the tai-youkai account.”

“What did you tell him?”

“What do you think?  I told him what I knew, of course . . . I had to.  It’s my job.”

Narrowing his gaze as he glowered at no one in particular, Evgeni ground his teeth together.  “You told him that you gave the information to me,” he hissed.

“I . . . Yes.”

“Did he say anything else?”

The banker let out another deep breath.  “No . . . No, he didn’t, but . . . But he didn’t sound surprised.  In fact, he asked me directly about your involvement.”

“So, he knew . . .” Evgeni muttered, more to himself than to Vladimir.  Clicking the ‘end’ button to sever the connection, he only considered it for a second before dialing another number.  He wasn’t stupid enough not to realize what it all meant, after all . . .

“Feodosiv,” the man greeted, the heavy dose of boredom in his tone, entirely expected, even if it did grate on Evgeni’s nerves.

“Your Grace,” he replied as smoothly as he could.  “I won’t take up much of your time.  I trust your visit to Russia went well.”

“As well as ever,” Ian MacDonnough replied, sounding even more droll by the moment.  “I’m a busy man.  What do you want?”

Bristling at the European tai-youkai’s brusque attitude, the Russian tamped down his irritation and struggled to retain a civil and almost personable tone of voice.  “It seems that I may be in need of a haven of sorts,” he said.  “Can I count on you, Your Grace?”

Ian grunted.  “Sloppy, aren’t you, Evgeni?  If memory serves, I told you then that keeping the tai-youkai account a secret would only work for so long, and you were the one who insisted that it was long enough, weren’t you?”

“It wouldn’t have taken much longer,” Evgeni countered.  “Even so, the damage has already been done, and—”

“And you’re a fool,” Ian cut in coldly.  “Now that he’s taken _her_ as his mate, there isn’t much you’ll be able to do.  Working from the shadows won’t avail you much.”

“He’s taken . . .? During the summit, you mean?”

“Just before I arrived.  It would seem that I was too late for the wedding.”  He chuckled nastily.  “Are you saying you didn’t know?”

“Thank you,” Evgeni bit out, ending the connection as a livid growl issued from him.  A couple, walking past on the sidewalk, turned and gave him a rather alarmed kind of look.   He ignored it, grinding his teeth together as the reality of the situation sank in.

Fai had mated that woman . . .?

Talking himself out of trouble might well take some doing, but that woman?

Tightening his fist hard enough that his claws dug into the palm of his hand, Evgeni stuffed the cell phone into his pocket.  That one . . . She really could ruin everything, couldn’t she?  Simply by existing, she could . . . Taking a mate?  It was the last thing that Evgeni could afford.  After all, if he should decide to produce an heir, then everything would just be that much more difficult, and Evgeni’s patience was already wearing thin . . .

He’d been so close, hadn’t he?  If that idiot, Konstantin Korinovich would have just done what he should have, then this would all be over now . . .  ‘ _Damn that bear . . ._ ’

A sudden thought occurred to him, though, and he narrowed his gaze as he let it take form in his head.  Maybe . . . Maybe he could turn it into something he could use.  Mates . . . Mates could be exploited, couldn’t they?  And what better than a young and untried little girl . . .?

Pulling the phone from his pocket once more, Evgeni searched the contacts till he found the one he wanted.

“What do you want?”

Evgeni ignored the surliness in Taras Stepanovich’s tone.  “I need you to do something for me.”

Taras grunted.  “It’ll cost you.”

“It always does,” Evgeni replied.  “I need you to locate Saori Senkuro.  I want you to find her and to bring her to me.”

“Who’s she?”

Evgeni chuckled, but the sound was entirely devoid of humor.  “She’s the tai-youkai’s mate—his wife.”

“Is that right?”

“Find her, Taras.”

Taras sighed.  “You know how to pick your jobs, Evgeni.  All right.  I’ll be in touch.”

The connection ended, and Evgeni’s humorless smile widened.  If he got rid of her, then Fai would fall, too . . .

It was, after all, the law of mates, wasn’t it . . .?

 

* * *

 

 

“I miss you.”

Letting out a deep breath as he let his gaze rake over Saori’s forced bright smile, he tried to return the sentiment but couldn’t quite manage it.  “I miss you, too,” he told her, hating the separation of the video feed.  “Rinji said you were sleeping earlier.”

She wrinkled her nose.  “I was, but I’d have rather been talking to you,” she told him.  “Is Yerik-kun back yet?”

“No, but he did call.  Seems that the man I sent him to see was transferred to a maximum-security psych hospital in Moscow, and they won’t let anyone in without official clearance.”

“You can’t get him that?”

He made a face.  “I probably could, if I pulled some strings.  I’m not entirely sure that the lead is worth the effort, though.”  Rubbing his forehead, he shrugged.  “It’s only his tale . . . If there had been others, even just rumors . . .”

She shook her head, hooked her hair behind her ear as she rolled over onto her stomach on the big and very comfortable-looking bed.  “I’ll feel better when Yerik-kun gets back . . . I hate the idea that you’re alone . . .”

“I’m not entirely alone,” he reminded her, “and I’m fully capable of watching out for myself.”

“I know,” she told him.  “That doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

He chuckled.  He supposed that he really couldn’t fault her for that.  “It’s just for a little while,” he told her.  “As long as you’re safe . . .”

“I’m staying with ojii-chan, so I doubt there’s anywhere safer,” she told him.

He nodded.  “I know . . . I suppose your whole family has moved in for the duration?”

She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual, ebullient expression.  “Well, nii-chan has . . . sort of . . .”

“Good . . . I’m glad . . .” Fai replied, wincing inwardly since that was a bald-faced lie.  To be honest, the idea that he was leaving her protection to anyone else . . . It bothered him—a lot.

She sighed.  “I don’t sleep very well here,” she admitted quietly.  “I wake up all the time, and I don’t remember my dreams, but they’re . . . they’re scary . . .”

“Scary?  Because you miss me . . .”

She nodded.  “I . . . I _hate_ this . . .”

“I know,” he told her softly, gently.  “I . . . I do, too . . . but you . . . You must be safe, Saori.  You _have_ to be . . .”

She yawned, blinking quickly to stave back tears that rose to fill her eyes with the effort.  “Sorry,” she said, biting her lip, gnawing on it as she sighed and reached out, her fingertips seeming to brush against something, but from the vantage point of the camera, he couldn’t see what.

“Is your screen dirty?” he asked, raising an eyebrow despite the little smile that quirked his lips.

She shook her head.  “No . . . I’m touching your face,” she said, her eyes suspiciously bright.

His smile faltered as a stabbing kind of pain hit him, square in the chest.  Suddenly, the space between them seemed to open up, just a little bit more, and he winced.  “Saori . . .”

She frowned.  “Fai?  Do you . . .?” With a wince, she quickly shook her head.

“What is it?”

She tried to smile.  It looked a lot more like a grimace.  “It . . . It’s nothing . . .”

“If it makes you look like that, it’s not nothing,” he told her.  “Tell me?”

She sighed.  “It’s just . . . If . . . If you’re working, don’t worry about it.  I just thought maybe . . . I mean . . . Would you . . .? Could you . . . just stay on the phone till I fall asleep . . .?”

A fierce ache erupted behind his eyes, and without another word, he stood abruptly, yanking his phone out of the docking station.  It took a few moments for the video feed to transfer over to the device as he strode out of the office and down the hallway, heading for the stairs.

“Fai?”

“Sorry,” he said, holding the phone up so that she could see his face again.  “Close your eyes, Saori.  I . . . I won’t hang up.”

She smiled wanly as she lay down, her face touched by the warmth of the lamplight.  “You won’t?”

“No,” he told her, the pad of his thumb, rubbing over the screen where her cheek appeared, wishing that it was more than just a smooth and cool bit of glass under his fingers.  He missed her terribly, horribly . . . More than he’d ever thought that he could miss another person, ever . . . After this was all said and done, he was never, ever going to allow them to be separated, not like this, never, ever again . . . “I . . . I won’t . . .”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In case you missed it, I posted the first chapter of **Purity** **Zero** , so please check it out and comment if you feel the urge.  I’d appreciate the feedback_!
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
>  _** rhmarie ——— Goldeninugoddess
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
>  _** Monsterkittie ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— WhisperingWolf
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
>  _** cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _I miss him_ …


	65. 064: Nefarious

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_64_** ~~  
~ ** _Nefarious_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“Morning, Fai.”

Casting Yerik a dark look as he stomped into the enclosed patio off the dining room, Fai said nothing until he’d filled a coffee mug and flopped down at the table.  His brother looked like he hadn’t slept yet, and he had to wonder just when he’d gotten home from a hunt near Leningrad for a renegade otter-youkai, known to be responsible for nearly a dozen human disappearances over the last five years.  Since he wasn’t able to see the man in the psych facility without documentation, Fai had sent Yerik orders for another hunt that he could take care of since he was already in that area.  “I guess you were waiting up for me?” Fai asked mildly as he lifted the coffee to his lips.

Yerik shrugged.  “Well, I just got back about half an hour ago, so I figured I might as well.  How’s Saori?”

“She’s . . . She’s all right,” he replied tightly, mostly because, when he’d woken up, it was to find that his phone was dying, but not before he spent a moment, staring at her sleeping face and trying to ignore the savage urge to ask her to fly home immediately.  It had been just over a week since he’d seen her face in person, and the separation was wearing on him, probably more than it was wearing on her.  The entire situation chafed at him—the need to secure her safety, especially after the things Sesshoumaru had said.  True, there was no real proof that anyone might have caused the electrical malfunction at the house in Sri Lanka, but . . . “She’s tired of being there.  If I had a choice in it . . .”

“She’s your mate—your responsibility,” Yerik reminded him.

“You heard the part about not having a choice, didn’t you?” Fai growled, his voice echoing in the confines of the coffee mug.  He slammed it down on the table.  “I didn’t want to, but until I deal with Evgeni, then she’s safer there with her grandfather.  Sesshoumaru’s house is about the safest place there is.”

Yerik didn’t argue with Fai, but he looked like he wanted to.  “Do you honestly think that Evgeni would be stupid enough to do something to her?”

Fai sighed, settling back, rubbing his forehead, willing away the headache that had started in shortly after he’d opened his eyes.  “At this point, I don’t put much past him.”  Uttering a terse growl as he abruptly stood, as he stomped over to grab the carafe of coffee, he shook his head.  “When he figures out that Saori and I got married—that we’re mates . . .”

Yerik refilled his cup after Fai plunked that down on the table.  “It’s dumb.  I don’t doubt what you’re saying, but honestly, just what does he hope to gain?  Not one bit of it makes any sense at all . . .”

“Do you expect that it should?” Fai challenged.

Yerik frowned.  “But what does he hope to gain?  What’s the point?  He’d never, ever be strong enough to be tai-youkai, anyway . . .”

“I don’t know,” Fai replied.  “I’m sure he has a plan.  I just . . . I don’t know what it is.”

“Your Grace, Master Konstantin is here.”

Fai glanced up in time to see Konstantin as he brushed past the butler and dropped a very large duffle bag on the floor.  “I am here to protect and to serve!” he announced loudly.  “Her Grace called me— _Her Grace!_ —and so humbly asked that I . . . How did she say?  Watch your back!  So, I am here to watch your back!” he announced.

Fai didn’t miss the rather harried expression on the butler’s face as he retrieved Konstantin’s bag.  “I’ll take this to a guest room,” he said before slipping out of the room as quietly as he had come.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Fai slowly shook his head.  “Saori called you, did she?”

Konstantin seemed to puff up his chest.  “She did!  It is an honor—my _honor!_   My _privilege!_ —to be bestowed such a duty by Her Grace!  I will not fail you or her!” he insisted, balling up a fist, thumping it against his chest to emphasize every word.  “Upon my life, I—”

“Have some coffee,” Yerik interrupted, pushing the carafe toward the big man.

“Coffee!” Konstantin exclaimed, striding over to retrieve a cup off the sideboard.  “So, what is the great evil that we are fighting?” he asked, dumping a lot of steaming coffee into his cup as he sat down so heavily that the chair creaked under his weight.

“I kind of don’t think he needs the coffee,” Fai muttered, shaking his head.

“You’re probably right,” Yerik muttered back.

“This evil?” Konstantin growled.

“Oh, right . . . Evgeni,” Yerik replied.

“Evgeni?  But he is no threat . . . I could pop his head between my palms like overripe melon—make his children weep . . .”

“Well, he has no children, so that won’t be a problem, and it’s not Fai that we’re worried about.  It’s Saori.”

“Saori . . .?  Her Grace?”  The bear uttered an incensed kind of sound, low in his throat.  “What kind of bastard would threaten a woman, let alone a woman as good and kind and noble as Her Grace?” he bellowed.

“So, what’s your plan, Fai?” Yerik asked, ignoring the angry bear-youkai for the moment.

Fai let out a deep breath, raking his hands through his hair as he scowled at nothing in particular and everything in general.  “Evgeni’s still on vacation,” he allowed.  “I’ll call him in when he returns.”

Yerik nodded slowly.  “And then, what?  Will you have him arrested?  Executed?  Where are you going with this?”

That was the question, wasn’t it?  The burning question that Fai . . . He still wasn’t entirely sure, how to deal with it.  Certainly, the severity of the crimes against the tai-youkai warranted punishment—probably death.  The thing was, Fai still wanted to hear Evgeni’s reasons—if the griffon-vulture would actually give him any answers, that was . . . “I want to talk to him first,” Fai said.  “I want to know why—what he hoped to accomplish . . .”

“If he levied threats against Her Grace—” Konstantin growled.

Fai held up a hand to stop him before he went on another tirade.  “He hasn’t officially,” he said.  “Sending her to Japan was just a precaution.”

Konstantin snorted.  “Leave me alone in a room with the bastard for ten minutes.  I shall have every answer you’ve ever wanted from him . . .”

Fai shook his head but smiled wanly.  “I’m sure you would, Kostya.  If it comes to that, then I might take you up on it.”

 

* * *

 

 

Stepping outside of the small but exclusive shop, Saori stopped to check her phone, hoping that maybe Fai had sent her a message.  He had, just a quick message telling her to have a good day and that he missed her along with a picture of himself, sitting behind his desk, looking rather busy with his paperwork—probably a photo that Yerik had taken, which, she figured, was good enough, and she sent him back a quick selfie.

“He looks entirely too serious,” Kagura remarked, peeking over Saori’s shoulder.  “Reminds me of Sesshoumaru on a bad day.”

Saori smiled at her grandmother.  “He does work a lot,” she allowed.  “I know, it’s part of his job.  Sometimes, though, I think he’s a little too serious.”

“Of course, you do,” Kagura said, checking her phone when it buzzed in her purse.  She fired off a brief text and dropped it back into her purse once more.  “Anyway, I think it’s fair to tell you just what I told your mother when she complained that your father worked too hard and didn’t take enough time off to relax.”

“Oh?  And what’s that?”

Kagura smiled—a very lazy kind of smile, full of secrets that she was apparently prepared to impart her granddaughter.  “Men love breasts, Saori.  If you show him yours, your mate will not think twice about getting away from that desk.”

Despite the very becoming blush that stained her cheeks, Saori giggled.  “It works on ojii-chan?”

Kagura chuckled.  “Like a charm.”

Her phone rang, and Kagura sighed as she dug it out once more and shook her head.  “Just a second, dear,” she said, stepping away to take the call, probably from the school that she ran.

Checking her watch, Saori sighed.  They were supposed to meet Aiko for lunch at _Twelve Till Noon_ , the small but very nice restaurant that featured neo-European cuisine that had opened up near Taishosoft headquarters, but they still had about an forty minutes to get there, and, even if they walked the whole way, they’d probably still end up there at least fifteen to twenty minutes early . . .

She sighed.  She’d planned so many things to do while she was here, and despite that, she was already running low on busywork.  She’d visited with the orphans who were now living with foster families and had spent the day yesterday, running them all over Tokyo, buying them things they needed, from clothes and school supplies and those sorts of things to computers, cell phones . . . All of it.  She’d paid for it all out of her private account, but, given that Fai was more than happy to support her—his words, not hers—then she hadn’t minded at all.  He’d said that he’d reimburse her, but she’d rolled her eyes and told him that he wouldn’t do any such thing.  She figured that they could consider everything personal gifts from her, and that was fine, too.  As it was, did it really matter?  She didn’t think it did.

She’d also been shopping to buy a few more clothing items for herself, a few things for Fai and a few things for Yerik—thing that weren’t as readily available in Russia, including hakama for Fai.  After all, there was nothing quite as comfortable as hakama to wear during training . . . Those things, she’d paid to have shipped directly to the castle.  She’d tell Fai to expect deliveries later when he called tonight . . .

‘ _Not to mention that something about a man, wearing hakama, is hot as hell . . ._ ’

She smiled to herself.  That, she supposed, was an added bonus . . .

“Sorry about that, Saori.  Sometimes I wonder about the people there at the school . . . I swear, there are moments when you just have to wonder . . . Anyway, shall we walk to the restaurant?” Kagura asked.

They started down the busy street, enjoying the hustle and bustle of the city.

“I remember when this was just a tiny village,” Kagura mused as they stopped at a crosswalk.  “Such a small place, and we watched it grow—watched over it, really . . . Your ojii-chan never said as much, but I had the feeling that he watched over it because a part of him . . . Well, I don’t know that you could say he _missed_ InuYasha, but . . . But it was a part of InuYasha’s domain, and Sesshoumaru . . .”

Saori glanced at her grandmother.  It wasn’t often that she was wont to speak about those days long past.  She never knew why, exactly, but on the rare occasions that she did speak of them—her days in Sengoku Jidai—it always seemed to Saori that Kagura appeared to be a little sad.  She’d never asked why.  Something about it felt as though it wasn’t really any of her business.  Now, however, she didn’t seem sad, at all . . .

“It was . . . quite a while after InuYasha had gone after Kagome.  I don’t pretend that I know what he was thinking back then.  It must have been a little lonely, though.  I mean, they were never close, but there’s something about knowing that you have family . . . Sesshoumaru lost that for a long time, and the way everything was . . .” Suddenly, she gave herself a little shake, like she hadn’t realized that she’d been speaking out loud.  Then she smiled.  “It was a long time ago.”

Saori frowned.  “But . . . But ojii-chan had you.”

Her smile turned a little enigmatic, and she chuckled softly.  “Well, he did . . . and he didn’t . . .”

“Sounds mysterious,” Saori teased.

To her surprise, Kagura blushed.  “It’s our story, Saori-chan.  I’m sure that there are stories that you share with Fai that you won’t tell me about . . . It’s fine; did you know?  There are certain things that are meant to stay between lovers.”

She blushed, too, as she considered Kagura’s words, and she laughed.  “True enough . . . But, obaa-chan . . . Will you tell me?  How did you know?  When did you know?”

“Know?” Kagura echoed.

Saori nodded.  “How did you know ojii-chan was your mate?”

She laughed.  “Well, if you asked him, he’d say it was when he told me he was, but . . .” Her laughter died away, but her smile didn’t diminish completely as she slowly shook her head.  “I don’t think that it was something I really wondered about . . . I . . . I _belonged_ with him, even when I . . .” Laughing again suddenly, she quickly shook her head, as though she were chiding herself for her own thoughts.  “Being with him . . . It felt . . . It felt like home . . .”

“You mean, you didn’t have a moment when you just knew?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.  It wasn’t a huge epiphany or anything.  It was more of a . . . a whispering that I felt more than realized.  The wind . . . It was always warmer when I was with him . . .”

Saori considered that, a smile surfacing on her face—the kind of smile that came from deep within, from feeling a sense of well-being so deep, so encompassing, that it couldn’t be helped.  “I hope that Fai and I are as happy together as you and ojii-chan are,” she ventured.

Kagura chuckled.  “Oh, we have our disagreements, Saori.  Don’t doubt that.  However, he can still give me a look, and I’ll know what he’s thinking—what he’s _feeling_ . . . Your ojii-chan . . . He’s a very sweet man.  He just has a hard time showing it sometimes; that’s all.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Seiji said that he was considering, flying back to Russia to keep an eye on Fai.”

Choking on the sip of tea she’d just taken, Saori quickly set the cup aside and reached for a napkin, instead.  “He did?”

Aiko nodded.  “He’s worried about him,” she replied.  “He said that Fai-sama has a good head on his shoulders, but that it isn’t all right, that he’s there with no one else to watch out for him, too . . .”

Saori sighed, slowly shook her head.  “I’m glad tou-chan cares,” she said, “but I don’t know if it’s a good idea for him to go.  Fai . . . He can handle things.”

“It’s not about handling things, Saori.  Just because someone can handle things doesn’t mean that they couldn’t use someone to back them up.  Didn’t you say that his brother is out on a hunt?”

“He was, but he’s back now, I think,” she replied.

“Fai-sama realizes, doesn’t he, that asking for help sometimes isn’t really a show of weakness?” Kagura added.  “In fact, if you ask me, sometimes it’s a show of strength . . .”

She shook her head again.  “I don’t think that’s what he’s thinking about,” she ventured.  “I think . . . I think he’s still struggling with what, exactly, he should do with Evgeni-san . . .”

“Do you think he wouldn’t punish him for his part in the whole deception?  I mean, it’s really appearing as though he was the mastermind behind the entire thing . . .?”

She frowned, struggling to figure out exactly how to convey her feelings on the matter.  “I don’t think it’s that,” she said slowly, carefully, measuring her words.  “I think . . . I don’t think it’s his resolve.  I think, more than anything, he wants answers—why he would do such things, to start with.  I think he wants to know the real scope of what he chose to do so that the punishment fits the crime, as it were.”

Kagura nodded.  “He’s a good tai-youkai, then.”

She shrugged.  “I think it weighs upon him that Evgeni-san’s mate is a good woman, too.  If he has to kill him, then that would leave her . . .”

Aiko sighed.  “That . . . That weighs on nii-chan, too,” she admitted, talking about Toga.  “He’s said before that the hardest choices are the ones that indirectly involve family.  It’s not fair, and yet, it all boils down to the idea that these ones who commit crimes really should have considered their families before they chose to do what they’ve done, too.”

“Even ojii-chan has had issues with making those kinds of choices,” Kagura added.  “I remember, there was one time . . . Rin had befriended this young lady—an eel-youkai—a really, really pretty girl . . . She’d just found her mate; they had only been together a few months, when it came to light that he had completely demolished a small village nearby.  When questioned, he admitted that he’d done it simply to see if he was strong enough _to_ do it . . . It was in the early days after the edict that protected humans, and Sesshoumaru . . . It wasn’t that he wanted to make an example of him or anything, but the reason behind the massacre . . . And in the days before then, he might well have just turned a blind eye because that was his nature, but . . . But he understood that, at that time, what he did or did not do would have far-reaching impact.  He issued that order, and when the girl died a couple months later, Rin . . . Rin understood, but there was a certain distance between her and Sesshoumaru for a long time—a distance that was exceedingly hard to close again . . .”

Saori frowned.  She hadn’t known that; had never heard that particular tale.  “But they’re so close now . . .”

Kagura nodded.  “They are . . . But they aren’t—not like they used to be.  For a while, I wondered myself if Sesshoumaru cared for her more than he cared for me.  Maybe he just didn’t know it, or maybe he simply didn’t want it to be so.  It was one of the reasons . . .” Trailing off, she suddenly shook herself, her smile returning as her vision slowly cleared, as her memory faded into the past once more.  “It was a long time ago.”

“Don’t look like that, Saori,” Aiko chided gently.  “Every relationship undergoes changes over time, and that’s not bad.  It’s really how it ought to be.”

She understood what Aiko was saying, of course.  Even so, something about Kagura’s words . . . made her sad, too.  Rin, with her smiling ebullience, her youthful joy . . . And yet, she knew, too, that the same oba-chan had dealt with more than her fair share of heartache, especially in her very young life . . . “But ojii-chan adopted her, right?  I mean, you both did . . .”

Kagura shrugged, reaching for her tea.  “Well, it was more Sesshoumaru . . . He’d adopted her long before I was in the picture.  Maybe not formally, but it was recognized by all that she was his child.  Rin and I . . . Well, we started out more as friends than parent-child . . .”

“But she calls you okaa-san,” Aiko reminded her.

Kagura smiled, chuckled.  “She does, and I love her as much as I love you and Toga.”

Saori’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at it, only to see that Fai had sent her a picture.  She giggled at the poor Asian tai-youkai, sitting at his desk, cheek propped on his balled-up fist, looking entirely bored, with the words, ‘ _Miss you_ ’ . . . She sent him back a crying emoji and dropped her phone into her purse once more.

“If that was a picture of your mate, I want to see,” Aiko remarked.  “Well, unless he was naked or something . . .”

Saori laughed and dug her phone out to hand it over.  Aiko giggled and rolled her eyes.  “Laying it on a little thick, isn’t he?” she asked as she gave Kagura the phone.

“A very good-looking man,” she decided.  “The two of you will make beautiful babies.”

Blushing profusely as she stowed the phone away again, Saori giggled.  “Eventually,” she allowed.  “He said he’d like to get things a little more under control before we start a family, and I agree . . . I want babies, but we have a long time together . . .”

“There’s nothing wrong with waiting,” Kagura told her.  A vague sense of sadness seemed to flicker to life on her features, but it was gone as fast as it had come, too . . . “We waited a long time before we decided to start ours, and for much the same reason, although Sesshoumaru also wanted to wait . . . Well, there were a few other reasons, too, but . . . I . . . I wanted to wait, too . . . Anyway, that’s another story, entirely . . . He wanted family, I think . . . He wanted to wait until closer to time for InuYasha to arrive through the well.”

“Whether you have children right away or not is entirely up to the both of you, however, I look forward to being obaa-chan,” Aiko remarked.  “In your own time, of course.”

“Okay, so, now that we’re done eating, what else were we going to do this afternoon?” Kagura asked, scanning her cell phone at the tableside payment reader.

“Seiji insisted that I take the rest of the day off,” Aiko replied.  “He apparently thinks I work too hard . . . And he did mention that he might have called to make reservations at _Kawaii_ . . .”

“Really?” Saori giggled and picked up her purse.  _Kawaii_ was one of the nicest spas in the area with a price tag to boot.  “What did tou-chan pay for?”

Aiko laughed.  “I think he said that he told them to bill him.”

“Oh, well, then . . .” Kagura drawled, reaching for her purse.

“I’m going to go call Fai really quickly,” Saori said as she got to her feet.  “No hurry . . . Thanks, obaa-chan.”

She hurried away from the table, changing her shoes before she stepped outside to seek a quiet corner where she could call Fai in at least a modicum of privacy.  He’d emailed her some of the pictures he’d taken at a couple of the property showings that he’d gone on for her.  There were a couple that weren’t suited for what they wanted, but a two of them looked fairly promising.  He’d told the realtor that she would be making the final decision when she returned, so she wanted to thank him for going out of his way to do that for her, though, to be honest, she really just wanted to hear his voice.

Choosing a little alcove just outside the restaurant, she pulled out her phone and was about to dial when the arm slipped around her waist, claws digging into her hip just enough to be taken as a warning.  “Don’t scream, Your Grace,” the man said in thick Russian.

She dropped the phone back into her purse and slowly shifted her eyes around.  Nothing seemed amiss, so she was pretty sure it was just this man.  She had no idea who he was, though . . . “What do you want?” she asked, careful to keep her voice down.

He chuckled.  “Well, I’ve been asked to escort you back to Russia,” he told her in a pleasant enough tone.

“And who wants me back there?” she parried calmly.

“Ah-ah . . . Now, come along.  Don’t want to cause a scene, now do you?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she replied just as pleasantly, willing her heart to stop racing.  “I’m not in the habit of taking off with strange men.”

“Hmm, well, how about you pretend that we’re friends?  Then you can come along with me, no problem, right?”

“I’m pretty picky about who I call a friend,” she told him dubiously.  “After all, you won’t tell me a thing, so I figure you’re either here to hurt me or to force me to do something I’m not sure I want to do . . .”

“Well, as much fun as this whole thing has been, how about we cut the chatter and get a move on, hmm?  After all, I’ve spent far too long today, trailing you all over Tokyo.  What say we just skip this cute banter and get going?”

She let him hustle her toward a waiting cab.  Peering back over her shoulder just in time to see her grandmother and mother step out of the restaurant, she shook her head at them when Kagura started to reach into her purse for her fans.  “It’s fine,” she called back as the man opened the taxi door and started to herd her into it.  “I’m going back to Russia!”

The man shoved her into the cab and hopped in after her, closing the door and barking at the driver to go, even as Kagura and Aiko hurried over to the vehicle.  “One would think you’d be better protected than just a couple of women,” he scoffed, going so far as to wave at them as the cab pulled away from the curb.

Saori rolled her eyes, reaching over to dig her claws into the man’s hand, the hiss of his breath, warring with the sizzle as she purposefully injected just enough poison into his hand to make her point.  “Since I don’t know you, I guess I should tell you that you’re going to be dead in about an hour,” she murmured so that only he would hear.  “Now, would you be nice enough to tell me who sent you?”

“You!” he growled, cradling his hand against his chest, wincing as some of the poison oozed out of the puncture wounds.  “But there aren’t any poison-youkai outside of—”

“My ojii-chan’s family?  You’re right,” she replied pleasantly enough.  “Well, other than vipers, but their venom is nothing in comparison.  So, either you cooperate with me—or you die.  It’s your choice.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— Amanda Gauger ——— minthegreen
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** lovethedogs
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Taras_** :  
> … _Dammit_ …


	66. 065: Malicious Intent

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_65_** ~~  
~ ** _Malicious Intent_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Stepping out of the jetway, Kagura had barely turned her phone on when it rang in her hand.  “Moshimoshi?”

“Kagura . . .”

She smiled at her mate’s slow drawl.  “Yes?”

Sesshoumaru uttered a terse sound.  “I just got a phone call from the airport.  You took the plane, did you?  To Russia, no less . . .”

“I did,” she replied.  “Didn’t you check your voicemail?”

“Not yet,” he remarked.  “Is there a reason you’re in Russia?”

“Some guy showed up and tried to abduct your granddaughter,” she said.  “Aiko and I did the most logical thing.”

“. . . You followed them.”

“Yes.”

He sighed.  “Did it not occur to you to come and get me?” he demanded in the same quiet tone.

“That would have taken too long.  Besides, I’m telling you now, and if you had listened to the voicemail I’d left, then you’d have known sooner still.  We’re not sure who he is or what he wants, but we think it might have something to do with Evgeni-san.”

“Evgeni-san.  Did you hear something or—?”

“No, but who else could it be?  If it were Fai, then she wouldn’t have been rushed into the taxi, and she didn’t act like it was someone she knew, anyway.”

“Kagura, I need you to hear me.  You and Aiko—You’re not to go, racing in there, without me.  Do you understand?”

She rolled her eyes.  “And since when do I take orders from you, Sesshoumaru?  I’m your mate, not your child, and Saori is my granddaughter.”

She clicked the phone off and dropped it into her pocket as she met Aiko’s curious gaze as the two strode through the airport.  “Otou-san wanted us to wait for him, didn’t he?” she asked rather quizzically as they hurried past other travelers in the general direction of the baggage claim area near the doors.

“Of course, he did,” Kagura replied, still unable to shake off the brush of irritation that Sesshoumaru would actually think she’d comply with what amounted to his order.  “When I get home . . .” Heaving a sigh, she gave herself a mental shake, willed herself to let go of that.  “Did you reach Fai-sama?”

Aiko shook her head.  “No, but I left him a few messages.  Any ideas how we’re going to find Saori?”

Kagura frowned.  “We’ll find her,” she said, a steely determination entering her gaze.

Aiko’s phone chimed, and she retrieved it, blinking in surprise as she retrieved the message that had just arrived.  “Saori’s safe.  She says she’s going to meet Evgeni-san . . .”

Kagura’s frown darkened.  “Is that right?  Well, let’s find her.”

Aiko nodded, hastening her step as she trailed her mother through the bustling airport.

 

* * *

 

 

Fai strode into his office and dropped the cell phone onto the desk.  It was dead—dead as a door nail.  Already in a bad mood since he’d managed to take a hit while sparring with Yerik, right on his cell phone, which was really his own fault, given that he should have thought to take it out of his pocket before they got started, he uttered a very terse grunt and ground his teeth together hard.

He hadn’t.  It figured.  So, his already black mood only got that much blacker in the face of the idea that he wasn’t going to be able to talk to Saori all night—or at least, he wouldn’t be able to leave his desk for the duration, anyway, since the only landlines in the entire place were this one here and the one in the kitchen that the servants used to place orders for delivery and—whatever else they used it for . . .

No sooner did he get settled behind his desk when Vasili stepped into the office, clearing his throat before offering Fai a slight bow.  “Excuse me for interrupting, Your Grace, but Master Izanagi is here and wishes to be granted audience.”

“Izanagi,” Fai repeated thoughtfully.  Then, he stood.  “Show him in.”

The butler nodded and bowed again as he slipped out of the room.  Fai had almost forgotten the hunter since he hadn’t heard a thing from him since he’d given him the information regarding the youkai for the trial hunt for the elk-youkai.  That he hadn’t bothered to call when the hunt was completed wasn’t that much of an issue.  Even so . . .

“Evening, Your Grace,” Taine remarked as he strode into the office.  He strode over to the desk and dropped the hunt kit on top of Fai’s small pile of paperwork.

“Taine . . .” he said, taking his time as he filled a glass with vodka.

“I tried calling to let you know,” he said.  “The number that was programmed in said it was out of service.”

Fai frowned.  It was entirely possible, he supposed, since he hadn’t actually used many of the other hunt kits in a while.  “Sorry about that . . . I take it you were successful.”

Taine nodded slowly, taking the glass that Fai held out to him.  “Thanks, mate.  As for the hunt?  Yeah, all done.  He won’t be causing more trouble for you.”

“And how was it?”

“The hunt?” he asked, peering over the rim of the glass.  “He put up a fair fight, if that’s what you mean.”

Fai cocked an eyebrow as he casually wandered back to his desk again.  “Almost too much for you?”

“No, just . . . tougher than I figured he’d be, given that most who target humans tend to be fairly cowardly.”

“He was a Class C target, which means that he falls into the mid-range of the payscale for this kind of job.  Did you write up a report?”

“I did,” he said, jerking his head at the bag.  “It’s in the slim-file.”

Digging out the device, Fai scanned over the report with a slow nod of his own.  “Very good.  Thank you.  If you fill this out—” he said, pulling a blank payroll form out of his drawer and handing it to the hunter, “—I’ll transfer the payment first thing in the morning.”

To his surprise, Taine shook his head.  “It was a test, right?  You don’t owe me for that.  Just give me a job—officially, that is.”

Narrowing his gaze as he sat back, Fai stared at the dog-youkai for a long moment.  Raking his hand through his long, startlingly-red hair as he shifted his dark gaze around the room in an entirely predatory kind of way, the man exhibited the strangest mix of nervous energy as he tapped his combat boot-clad foot and an almost misplaced sense of calm that seemed entirely at odds with one another—but seemed to be right at home in him, too . . . Once more, it struck Fai that his coloring seemed . . . somehow off . . . even if he really didn’t know why he felt that way, but then, what did it really matter as long as he was able to do the tasks that Fai gave him . . .?

“All right,” he allowed, understanding on some level, that it wouldn't matter if he argued with him or not, the man wasn’t about to take payment for that particular assignment.  It was something that Fai could appreciate—Taine’s conviction.  “Tell me something.  Do you need some time off or would you rather get right back out there?”

Taine shifted the lollipop in his cheek to the other side of his mouth and chuckled.  It was a soft and warm sound, but somehow, the amusement didn’t quite reach his gaze, either.  “I’m good,” he assured Fai.  “If you’ve got another assignment for me, I’ll take it and head out at sun-up.”

Fai nodded.  “All right.  I’ll get the information together while you fill out that paper, but tell me something?”

“All right.”

Scowling as he tapped his knuckles against the desk, Fai tried to read Taine’s expression.  Carefully blank, or maybe he simply wasn’t really considering anything at the moment.  There was more to him, wasn’t there?  And Fai . . .

“Why do you want to hunt for me?”

Taine blinked, shrugged, broke into the barest hint of a smile.  “I told you,” he said, “I just figured it was something I’m good enough at doing, and you need hunters.”

Fai shook his head.  “That’s what you said,” he allowed evenly.  “But I have to trust my hunters, and I don’t think that you’re being completely honest with me.  No one just decides to be a hunter on a whim.  There’s got to be a deeper reason.”

“Does there?”

“Doesn’t there?”

Taine stared at him for a long moment, then he suddenly chuckled that warm and sunny sound—a sound that reminded him of Rinji’s easygoing laughter.  It wasn’t a jaded kind of emotion, which only deepened Fai’s overall confusion as to why such a man would want to do something like hunt and kill youkai for a living.  “You’re right,” Taine allowed, his smile widening as he cocked his head to the side.  “I guess you could say that it’s a feeling I was born with,” he went on.

Fai raised an eyebrow.  “An inborn need to right wrongs and to fight the good fight?”

Taine made a face.  “Well, that sounds a lot more altruistic than I really am,” he admitted.  “It’s, um . . . I’ll just say that I don’t like to see people—human or youkai—being targeted and abused just because someone else is bigger or stronger.”

“You know, right?  That sounds completely altruistic,” Fai concluded, a smile of his own slowly surfacing, too.

Taine chuckled again.  “I suppose it does.”  His amusement slowly died away as he turned his face, staring out the far window as his eyebrows slowly drew together.  “It’s the only thing that feels like it fits me,” he went on softly.  “I’ve felt unsettled for so long . . . like there was something I need to do that just isn’t there, but this . . .”

Fai frowned as he considered Taine’s quiet statement.  “And this feels right to you,” he concluded.  “I see.”

“Do you?  Because, to be honest?  I don’t.”

There was truth in Taine’s words, wasn’t there?  Staring at him, Fai could see it.  He really wasn’t entirely sure where the feeling came from—maybe not even why.  Fai could understand that.  He’d felt that way when he considered his own future, when he’d thought about the responsibility of being the next Asian tai-youkai.  In Taine’s case, however, wasn’t it worse?  To not really know just what that feeling was, where it was trying to lead him?

“All right, then,” Fai said.  “Fill that out while I get the file ready for the next target.”

Taine sat down, frowning thoughtfully as he filled out the required information, as Fai sent the next hunt information to a clean slim-file.  This one was a rumored water-youkai that had attacked a family, vacationing just outside of Leningrad a few years ago.  Fai had gone out after him, only to miss him by mere hours, but no one had known where he had taken off to—or they simply hadn’t wanted to tell him.  Maxim had contacted him just today to say that he’d been spotted in a town in the north of Siberia.  He was going to hand that assignment to Yerik, but he had to admit that, until the Evgeni situation was taken care of, he kind of wanted to keep his brother nearby, just in case.  He didn’t honestly think that Evgeni would try to exploit Fai’s feelings for his brother, but then, he hadn’t thought that Evgeni would do half of the things that he’d done, too . . .

Pulling the prepaid card out of the bag, he narrowed his gaze on Taine.  “Did you use this at all?” he asked, mostly so that he’d know how much to put back on it.

Taine glanced up before dismissing the question, turning his attention back to the form he was still filling out.  “No, I didn’t,” he said.

Fai stuffed it back into the bag before dragging the phone out to check the number programmed into it.  It was an old number and easily rectified.  It still had a thousand minutes on it, so it was good enough for this job, too.

By the time Fai zipped the bag closed, Taine dropped the ink pen on the edge of the desk on the finished paper.

“Ivan Levanovitch is rumored to be a water-youkai—”

“Rumored to be?” Taine echoed.

Fai shrugged.  “There were conflicting accounts, but, given that there was evidence that a couple of his victims drowned quite far from any bodies of water other than a small stream that was really too low to account for it, it was kind of assumed.”

“No motive?”

“Not that we know of.  He attacked a human family, vacationing just outside of Leningrad in a nearby forest.  One of the children survived long enough to tell the authorities this tale about the man enclosing her parents in what seemed to be bubbles of water—hence, the drownings.  She died a few days later.”

Taine considered that, slowly nodding as he reached for the strap of the bag and stood.  “Got it.”

“I fixed the phone number in the cell,” Fai called after him as he headed for the door.  “Let me know if you need anything or when you silence the target.”

“Right, mate,” he called back, lifting a hand to wave.

Fai watched him go, his frown deepening.  Reaching over to retrieve the paper, his frown only darkened slightly as he read over the information that Taine had filled out.   The address he had given was a hotel in the city—a really nice one, at that.  Cell phone number . . . bank information for payment routing . . . Everything seemed in order, right down to his temporary visa number.  Fai supposed that he ought to do something about that, given that he really would rather that Taine stayed in Russia while he was working for him.  That was really nothing more than a formality that Fai could easily take care of with a simple phone call.

Everything looked fine on paper, didn’t it?

And yet, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling, either, that there was something about Taine—something he wasn’t saying.  There was something else, hiding in his head, and secrets were fine as long as they didn’t impede his work, but, given that Fai knew nothing at all about him, he couldn’t say he was entirely comfortable with the strange New Zealander, either . . .

Before, he would have called Evgeni—would have asked him to look into the youkai for him.  Now, however, that wasn’t really an option.  That realization was enough to send a pang through him, straight into the deepest part of his soul.  It only served to underline the idea that he didn’t have a single person he could fall back on—at least, no one that he could trust to help him in something like this.  Saori, Yerik . . . But neither one of them was any good at what would amount to undercover work.  He could ask Konstantin, but the bear tended to be a little too overzealous to gather intel, and the odds that he’d ever heard of Taine were just not very good.

No, there really wasn’t anything he could do, he figured.  Fai would just have to see what he could dig up on Taine Izanagi himself, he supposed . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Saori took the bottle of water that Stepanovich Taras handed her.  It wasn’t cold, but that was all right.  She hadn’t had a thing to drink since lunch hours ago.  “How’s your hand?” she asked, sipping the water, nodding at the wrapped-up appendage as she tried not to feel too bad for hurting him, to start with.

Taras grunted.  “It’s been better,” he muttered darkly, slowly flexing his fingers.

She made a face.  “I’m sorry I did that,” she told him, even though her tone was a little on the prim side.

Taras grunted again.  “At least you were able to reverse it.”

That didn’t actually make her feel much better.

He’d stopped the cab, dragged her into a small bar near Tokyo International Airport, long enough to give her the gist of the information she’d wanted with the promise that she’d extract the poison if he cooperated with her.  He had, telling her that he was working for Evgeni, that the youkai had told him to bring her back.  He didn’t know exactly what Evgeni’s plan was, but either way, it wasn’t good.

He wasn’t really a bad sort, she thought to herself as she watched him, kneeling down to start a fire in the decrepit and crumbling hearth in the old, run-down cottegi not far from Evgeni’s estate—maybe half an hour away, as the crow flies.  He’d admitted to her on the plane that he was working for Evgeni because he paid him well, but he held no real allegiance to him, so it was simple enough for Saori to offer him enough money to sway his alignment, and now, he worked for her.

Saori sighed.  “Tell me why you’re doing stuff like this instead of getting a real job?” she asked, setting the water bottle on the small and rickety old table.

“Why else?  To make a decent living,” he replied.

“Well, sure, but everyone has a reason, don’t they?  What’s yours?”

He shrugged.  “Does it matter?”

“It might.”

He turned his head, stabbed her with a rather dark look.  “Are you one of those people who wants to save the world or something?”

She blinked at his question, then laughed.  “Well, no, but . . . But it might be good if you told me why you do it.”

“And why’s that?”

She made a face.  “Because if my mate finds out about this, he probably won’t be too happy, even if you did change your mind and decide to help me.”

He grunted again.  “I just need money.  That’s all.”

“Did you grow up poor?  So, you decided that you’d do whatever you have to do to keep from being poor again?”

That earned her a longsuffering sigh along with another very dry look.  “No,” he said in a tone that indicated that he was done talking about it.

She frowned.  “I’m trying to help you,” she ventured quietly.

“Why?” he growled, shooting to his feet, rounding on her as he glowered at her.  “Why would you want to help me?  I was paid to take you to Evgeni, and when I walked away from that, I wasn’t going to give you another thought—whatever happened.  So, why would you care?  If your mate kills me or not is irrelevant!  No one will ever hire me again—not when I turned on my employer!”

She grimaced at his very real anger.  “But Fai won’t kill you if you tell me why—if you have a reason for what you’re doing . . .”

“In your world, maybe,” he scoffed.  “Youkai princess, aren’t you?  Tell me, _Your Grace_ , just what do you know about anything outside of your ivory tower?”

“I know _Fai!_ ” she shot back, rising to her feet, glowering at the seething youkai.  “He’s a good man—a _fair_ man—and he won’t kill anyone who doesn’t deserve it!”

He opened his mouth to counter her arguments, but it never got that far.  With a rip of wind so powerful that Saori had to raise her hands, to cover her face as she quickly turned away, she heard the sound of the rickety old door, shattering, felt the splinters of wood as they struck her, as they blew past her.

She heard the sharp hiss of breath as she cautiously lowered her hands, blinked rapidly as the dust slowly spiraled around the stagnant air of the tiny cottegi.  A second later, Taras uttered a terse groan—a sound that wasn’t meant to escape—as gentle hands drew Saori back a few steps—as Kagura strode inside, flicking her fans as she stared at the would-be kidnapper.

“Are you hurt?” Aiko asked, turning Saori around, her greedy gaze, raking over her face.

“No, I—”

“You . . . You give me one good reason why I shouldn’t cut you down right now,” Kagura demanded.

Taras slowly uncovered his face—he’d been hit by something—a splinter of wood or an air blade, Saori didn’t know.  Wiping the blood that trickled from the laceration on his cheek, he frowned at the wind-youkai.

“Obaa-chan,” Saori quickly blurted, stepping away from her mother.  “Obaa-chan, it’s okay . . . He works for me now.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
>  _** xSerenityx020 ——— Goldeninugoddess
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
>  _** Monsterkittie ——— Amanda Gauger ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
>  _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18 ——— Thanatos
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _Go, obaa-chan_ …!


	67. 066: Fury

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_66_** ~~  
~ ** _Fury_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

The stingy and wavering light of the fire burning on the hearth of the decrepit old fireplace cast misshapen and almost macabre shadows: a study of light and dark.  The _cottegi_ where they had taken shelter for the night was long-abandoned: a skeleton of a structure with walls that were barely hanging on, but it sufficed.  Located less than an hour from Evgeni’s estate, it was a good enough place to hole up, to fine tune a plan that was slowly starting to fall into place.

She’d be lying if she tried to say that she wasn’t just a little nervous.  She was smart enough to realize that the entire thing hinged upon her own ability to convince the griffon-vulture-youkai that she knew nothing, that she was frightened and the typical damsel in distress . . . It had to work perfectly.  It had to . . .

“There’s a good chance that Evgeni’s going to have back-up.  He’s no fool, and even if he thinks that I’m bringing her back, he’s distrustful enough that he’ll have his underlings, guarding the estate.”

“How many, do you know?” Kagura asked, waving away the bottle of water that Saori offered her.  She wasn’t entirely convinced that she could trust him, but she was, at least, willing to hear him out.

Taras shook his head, wincing and jerking to the side when Aiko gently wiped at the laceration on his cheek with a cleaning wipe.  “I don’t,” he replied, scowling her.  “He has a handful of security guards that he keeps on hand, but he may have hired more, given that he seemed a little . . . suspicious.”

“This might sting,” Aiko interrupted just before spraying the antiseptic onto the wound.

He hissed loudly, his scowl shifting into a very menacing frown that Aiko summarily ignored.  “It’s fine,” he growled, trying to wave her away.

Aiko summarily ignored him, and worse, she grasped his chin and held his face still like he was little more than a small child.  “Hold still.  I’ll just put a bandage on it till it seals closed.”

He sighed but let her do what she wanted.  “Anyway, men like him . . . They’re entirely given to their delusions and their suspicions, and from what I’ve seen, Feodosiv is worse than most.”

“I think the best idea is to let him take me there like he was supposed to.  That way, Evgeni-san doesn’t realize right away that I know what’s going on,” Saori added.

“I don’t like the idea of you, marching in there like that,” Kagura remarked with a shake of her head.  “And Fai-sama won’t, either.”

“I’ll watch out for her,” Taras growled, still trying to elude Aiko’s tender care.

Kagura wasn’t quite ready to allow that, though, as she crossed her arms over her chest and leveled a no-nonsense look at the man.  “You’ll understand if I’m not exactly ready to trust you, given the circumstances.”

He nodded.  “All right.  Then, what’s your plan?  Bust in there with all guns blazing, so to speak?  Do you think that’s the right approach?”

“Obaa-chan, he’s right . . . I wanted to see if I could get any answers out of Evgeni-san, and he won’t talk if he feels cornered . . .”

Kagura still didn’t look convinced.  “We’ll follow,” Aiko said in the same tone she’d use if she were talking about the weather.  “We won’t be far behind.”

“I’ll make sure she’s safe,” he stated once more.  “I’d rather not find out what the tai-youkai, not to mention the Inu no Taisho, would do to me if I didn’t.”

Kagura narrowed her formidable glare on the man.  “If you allow any harm to come to my granddaughter, you won’t have to worry about what my grandson-in-law or my mate will do to you.  You’ll need to worry about what _I’ll_ do to you.”

He nodded slowly and without taking his eyes off of the formidable woman.  “Somehow, I think you might well be more frightening than the both of them would be—at least, in this,” he allowed.

She didn’t look impressed, but she did nod, too.  “You have no idea.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Is this really necessary?” Taras growled under his breath as he planted his hands on his hips and glowered at the three women.

“Just do it,” Saori insisted for the third time in the last few minutes.  Time was ticking away, and Taras absolutely refused to do what she asked, which she supposed she could understand, and yet, it made sense to her, too.  “You know, Evgeni-san isn’t stupid.  If I go walking in there with you like this, he’s going to know that something’s up,” she reiterated.   “He’ll never believe that I came along with you willingly.”

He was clenching his teeth tightly enough that she could see his jaw ticking.  “Forget it.  The handcuffs, fine, but I’m not— _not_ —hitting you.”

She sighed.  “Just once—just enough to make it look good,” she coaxed.

He glanced at from her mother to her grandmother and back again, and once more, he shook his head.  “The handcuffs will be enough,” he assured her.  “Now, can we get moving?”

She made a face.  “Kaa-chan—”

Aiko quickly shook her head.  “I can’t, Saori-chan . . . I could never . . .”

Saori let it go as she turned to face her grandmother.  “Obaa-chan—”

Kagura’s expression was entirely inscrutable.  She stared at her for a long, long moment, but nothing about her gave away her thoughts on the situation, either.  In fact, she hadn’t said a thing since Saori had stopped them to give voice to the one thing that she’d considered all night.

That was the thing, wasn’t it?  Evgeni was too clever—and too distrustful—to simply take Taras on his word that he’d managed to kidnap Saori without any kind of struggle.  She knew it, and, on some level, Taras knew it, too.  He was simply disagreeing since he’d rather not have to deal with any kind of repercussions that might come his way from Fai—or anyone else.  She knew, too, that she could understand his reasons.  Even so, it had to be believable—entirely believable—or it’d all be pointless . . .

Kagura nodded almost imperceptibly—no more than just the slightest movement of her chin, really—as she flicked her gaze from Saori’s face to Taras’.  “She’s right,” she said, though she didn’t look like she wanted to admit as much.  “You should . . . should hit her—just once.”

Taras’s scowl shifted into one of abject disbelief.  “No,” he stated flatly.  “Absolutely not.”

Kagura put a hand on Saori’s arm when she started to coil herself to spring at him.  Before she could think, just what she was doing, the woman shoved on Saori’s shoulder and pushed her around, only to strike her soundly on the cheek, up near her eye.  Her head snapped to the side as a sharp pain erupted under the sting of the hit as the scent of her own blood filled her nose,

“I’m so sorry, Saori-chan,” Kagura murmured, her eyes suspiciously bright.

Saori shook her head, smashed her cheek against her raised shoulder and upper arm.  “It’s fine, obaa-chan,” she insisted.  “Is that better?”

Kagura still looked entirely discomfited, but she nodded once.  “Good enough.  Just . . . Just make sure you remember to fight against the restraints enough to make it look good, too,” she said.

Taras grimaced.  “And what are the odds that they’re still not going to think that I did that?” he grumbled.

“Don’t worry,” Kagura remarked.  “I’ll explain it all when the men arrive.”

He didn’t look entirely satisfied, but he jerked his head once in a nod before slapping the handcuffs on Saori’s wrists and jerking open the car door for her.

She spared her mother and grandmother one last, long look before slipping into the vehicle, letting Taras close the door behind her.

“Don’t you think that it might be better to take you home and to let your mate deal with Evgeni?” Taras asked as he pulled the rental car onto the road, heading toward the east—toward Evgeni’s stronghold.

“Fai shouldn’t have to,” she insisted stubbornly.  Then she grimaced.  “I . . . To be honest, I don’t know what he’ll do about Evgeni-san, not really . . .”

She could feel Taras’ gaze on her, though she didn’t look to verify it.  Concentrating instead on tugging at her wrists, bound in the handcuffs that were reinforced from within with ofuda, she grimaced as the tugging led to a deep burning, enough to properly chafe her.

“He’ll kill him,” Taras stated flatly.  “What he’s doing . . . It’s treason.”

She sighed, letting her hands drop to her lap.  “Maybe,” she allowed.  “I mean, I know it is.  It’s just . . . Evgeni-san means— _meant_ —a lot to Fai, and . . .” She grimaced.  “Fai’s a good man,” she finally went on quietly, almost more to herself than to him.  “He may well view it as more of a personal betrayal and less of one against his office . . .”

“Aren’t those one in the same?” Taras growled, grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“It’s hard to explain,” she said.  “They separate themselves from their offices in their minds.  I think . . . I think all tai-youkai do that.  I think . . . I think they _have_ to . . . It allows them to make the decisions that no one wants to have to make—allows them to do that, and then, it allows them to breathe afterward.”

He snorted indelicately.  “And you think it’s as simple as that?”

Slowly, she shook her head.  “No, honestly, I don’t.  I think it’s something they learn how to do.  Toga-oji-chan—my uncle . . . He’s one of the most decent people I know—good-natured, gentle . . . And yet, he’s issued his fair share of hunt warrants—all deserved, of course.  I’ve seen him stand, toe-to-toe against some of the most formidable beings on earth, and he won’t even blink . . . That doesn’t mean that it can’t weigh upon him.  It does . . . but he can still smile and laugh and be all right.  He leaves that stuff in his office, I guess.  Fai . . . He does the same thing.  It’s just . . . Well, Evgeni was his closest confidant for a very long time.  That’s all . . .”

She didn’t know if he understood what she was trying to say.  She didn’t pay too much attention to him.  Too busy, pondering the truths of what she’d just put into words, she winced inwardly.  As simple as it sounded, she knew that it wasn’t.  It was one of those things that took time to learn, she supposed.  It was ugly, and it was awful, but . . . but it was necessary, too . . .

‘ _It’s just . . . sad, isn’t it . . .? Sad that it would have to come to that . . ._ ’

‘ _Yeah, well, as sad as that may be, you know, don’t you?  You should be focusing on what you’re doing right now because if you think that this is all going to be easy, then you should probably think again._ ’

She sighed.   Wise words, she supposed.  After all, walking into Evgeni’s territory, given what she knew?  It wasn’t going to be nearly as simple as she might have liked.

‘ _Fai . . . if you can hear me?  I’m all right . . . I’ll_ be _all right . . ._ ’

 

* * *

 

 

‘ _Fai . . . if you can hear me?  I’m all right . . . I’ll_ be _all right . . ._ ’

The tires shrieked as Fai hit the brakes hard, as he veered off the road as the sound of Saori’s voice—as clear as if she were sitting beside him—echoed in his ears.  He knew that she wasn’t there.  That didn’t stop him from looking around, from trying to find her.  The bitter realization that she wasn’t actually with him cut through him deep, hard, as the unrelenting feeling that everything was so incredibly wrong ate away at him.  She should be with him—always with him.  That was how it should be, damn it.  It wasn’t right, wasn’t natural, that she was in Tokyo, and all because of a delusional man who had motives that lingered just beyond the light.  It was a horrible feeling that left a bitterness in his mouth, an ache in his soul.

It took a moment for his logical brain to kick in.

She wasn’t there.  He knew that.  He’d _known_ that.  What had him on edge, he reasoned, was that he hadn’t been able to talk to her last night, not since he’d ruined his phone.  The landline, however, had been out of order, too, and only after uttering a few—thousand—curses had he remembered the letter he’d gotten a week ago, announcing downtime for landline services while they replaced some of the old wiring in the area.

He’d had two options for the day: travel into the city to wait in line to get a new cell phone, which could take anywhere from an hour to all day, depending on the wait, or he could head out to confront Evgeni, to get all of this out of the way so that Saori could come home, so that he could concentrate on making things right.

He’d opted to confront Evgeni, and he was almost there.  He’d worry about the cell phone tomorrow . . .

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but . . . Have I displeased you that Your Grace is trying to kill me?”

Casting Konstantin a hostile glower, Fai nudged the car back onto to the road.  “Sorry,” he muttered, sounding anything but sorry.

Rubbing the side of his head—he’d hit the door a little hard when Fai had stomped on the brakes—Konstantin grunted.  “It’s nothing,” he assured him.  “We are almost there, yes?”

“Yeah, close,” Fai agreed, tamping down the ever-present irritation that it wasn’t quite ‘close’ enough for his liking.

“Should we have brought Yerik along?”

This time, Fai sighed, leaning his elbow on the door frame, resting his temple on his raised fist.  Truth was, he hadn’t been planning on bringing Konstantin with him, either, but he was already awake and drinking a cup of coffee when Fai had ducked into the dining room for a cup before he left.  When he’d inadvertently mentioned, what he was about to do, Konstantin had insisted upon coming along.  It was probably for the best, though, given that Saori would have had a fit if she’d found out that he had marched into perceived enemy territory alone.

“ _Your Grace!  You’re awake early!_ ”

 _Sparing a moment to watch with a slow and steady shake of his head as Konstantin shoved a whole slice of black bread into his mouth in one bite, Fai dragged his gaze away in favor of dumping coffee into a fine china cup.  “Tell me that’s not all you’re eating,” he remarked, ignoring Konstantin’s question for the moment_.

“ _I already had five sausages and a few pieces of bread,” Konstantin elaborated as he reached for a raisin sweet bun.  “Your cook is good—very good_.”

“ _Thanks,” Fai muttered since he’d spent some time the night before, baking a number of loaves of black bread as well as the sweet buns in the kitchen since he couldn’t sleep.  It had helped a little bit, though not nearly as much as talking to Saori would have_.

 _Konstantin blinked, lowering the bun before he could bite into it.  “Your Grace?  Your Grace made these?_ ”

 _Fai snorted.  “It’s just Fai, and yes, I did_.”

 _Konstantin considered that for a long moment before bursting into a belly-busting chuckle.  “A man of many talents—a God amongst us!  Is there anything Your Grace cannot do?_ ”

 _Fai rolled his eyes and kept his back toward him, mostly to hide the trace ruddiness that had seeped into his cheeks at the high praise.  “You know, Kostya, you don’t really have to stay here if you have other things to do_ . . .”

“ _I cannot ignore a mission assigned to me by Her Grace,” Konstantin said.  Fai figured it’d be something like that_.

“ _Yeah, well, as much as she worries, I’m very well equipped to see to my own welfare,” Fai pointed out, though his tone had taken on a rather philosophical lilt_.

“ _Of course!” Konstantin insisted, sounding almost offended at the very idea that Fai might not be able to hold his own.  “You are tai-youkai!  That means that you are man amongst men!  You are the highest of the highs!  The mountain_ —”

“ _All right,” Fai interrupted, waving a hand to cut off the ridiculous praise.  “Anyway, I’m going to go have a talk with Evgeni.  It takes a while to drive there, so don’t worry if I’m not home tonight._ ”

 _The large bear stared at him for a long, long minute.  Then he stood up, letting the cup in his hand thud heavily upon the table as the chair he’d been occupying rattled over the floor_.

 _Fai blinked.  “What are you doing?_ ”

 _Konstantin reached for the very ugly battle axe he was entirely too skilled at wielding—more so than a sword, in actuality.  “I am coming with you, Your Grace!_ ”

 _Fai’s mouth dropped open.  Then it snapped shut, and he slowly shook his head_.

 _Yeah, he’d figured it was something like that_ . . .

“I didn’t have time to wait around for Yerik to show his face, and he just got back from that hunt, so he should have a few days off, anyway,” Fai said, shaking off the lingering memory.  “Besides, you’re here.  Do I need someone else?”

Caught off-guard by the perceived high praise, Konstantin was silent for a long moment.  Then he cleared his throat rather gruffly.  “I will protect Your Grace until my dying breath!  This is my vow!”

“Just ‘Fai’,” he corrected, a bitter twang of a half-forgotten moment, flickering through his mind.

" _Fai-sama?_ "

" _Sama," he echoed with a rather sardonic sort of chuckle.  "You know, you don't have to use that for me, either_."

 _Saori smiled wanly.  "Then, what would you prefer that I call you?_ "

 _He seemed a little surprised by her frank question.  Then he shrugged.  "Just, 'Fai' would be fine, Saori," he told her.  "Just my name; that's all_."

He sighed again, gritting his teeth as yet another wave of melancholy washed over him, threatened to sweep him away . . .

Konstantin either didn’t notice or chose not to remark upon it.  He laughed that great, ringing laugh of his.

Fai shook his head and tightened his grip on the steering wheel . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Saori sat still, trying not to fidget in the rather uncomfortable, straight-backed wooden chair.  Her arms were smashed behind her—Taras had undone her restraints when she’d insisted that having her hands before her was entirely careless if he really wanted to make it look like she was secured.  She’d been sitting here, though, for the better part of an hour, which was making her regret her overzealous claim since her arms were starting to go numb, and her hands were alternating between numbness and sharp, annoying stabs of tingling pain when she tried to force blood flow into them.

She wasn’t in the _cottegi_.  Evgeni had told him via cell phone to escort her to the threshing house, whatever that was.

It looked like a small barn, she supposed.  Tilting her head back as she slowly scanned the building, she wrinkled her nose at the pervasive dusty smell that seemed to linger in her nostrils.  High, naked rafters, the walls, lined with wooden bins, a few, scant windows—small and high up in what she supposed were open lofts—and a very strange-looking assortment of rusted old tools, affixed to one of the long walls.  Some of them looked like long poles with leather straps tied to them.  Others looked like scythes.  The grayed and shriveled floorboards were swept clean long ago, only to gather a thick layer of dust, and, as if in answer to her observations, she sneezed, then sniffled.

Taras hadn’t said a thing after securing her to the chair with a few loops of rope that he’d found, tossed into one of the corners on a seemingly forgotten table that looked like it was a good wind away from collapsing under its own weight.  She figured it was good enough, given that her hands were out of commission, anyway.  Then he’d left her there, and she hadn’t seen him since.

The way he’d acted, however, made her wonder if the building weren’t under some kind of surveillance.  She supposed that it was entirely possible, given the paranoia that Taras had described.

It wasn’t a bad thing, though, being left alone for a little while.  It gave her a few minutes to gather her thoughts, to try to compose a plan, such as it was.  It was one thing to say that she wanted to see if she could get some answers, but honestly, she still didn’t know exactly what she wanted to ask.  Easy to say that she wanted to know why—why he’d go to such lengths, such deception.  But . . .

‘ _But that’s really not the question you should be pondering, you know._ ’

Saori frowned, biting her lip as she absently watched the dust in the air as it flitted through the solitary beams of sunlight, falling through the windows so high above.  She knew what her youkai-voice was saying.

If it came down to it, could she kill him?  Could she kill Evgeni?

She didn’t know that answer, either.

On the one hand, taking a life, no matter the reason, was never a simple thing, but when she thought about Fai—about the good and decent part of him—a part of him that he didn’t even like to acknowledge, but she knew it was there . . . She really didn’t know if he had it in him to kill someone who had meant so much to him—and if he could do that, just what would it do to his soul?

The thing was, it wasn’t a question of whether or not Evgeni deserved to die.  Taras was dead-on when he had said that Evgeni’s actions amounted to treason, and the price of that was death, no question.

Young, she was, but she was raised in the house of the Inu no Taisho.  She, better than most, understood that there were always grave consequences, and, even if you didn’t agree, sometimes things had to be the way they had to be.  She knew that, just as she knew that, pleasant or not, sometimes the price of order and the greater good was the hardest and most devastating to pay.  Fai suffered, didn’t he?  Suffered from the hateful understanding of those same precepts . . . Already, he’d been forced to spill blood in official challenges, regardless of his own feelings.  He’d had to lock that part of himself away in order to protect it, but at least in those, there was a level of detachment.  There wasn’t that level this time, and that was what bothered Saori the most . . .

‘ _Of course, he can do it, Saori, and you know, he might not be pleased that you’ve taken the choice from him, in the first place . . ._ ’

‘ _It’s not a question of whether or not he_ can _.  It’s a question of whether or not he_ should _.  You know as well as I do that it’s the reason why a hunter would never be sent out to target someone he or she knew.  That ability to separate oneself from one’s task is important._ ’

‘ _And you think that you could do such a thing and walk away from it, unscathed?  Don’t be silly._ ’

‘ _If it’s for Fai’s protection, I can do it._ ’

Her musings were cut short, though, with the wizened creak of the disused hinges as the doors of the old building were forced open.  She blinked, brow furrowing as the incursion of daylight filled the darkened room.

Evgeni, with Taras and a few others in tow—four others, to be exact—stepped inside, strode over to her, but, where the others stopped a good twenty feet away, Evgeni didn’t, not until he stood before her.  She saw the nasty coldness of his victorious grin moments before the flash of the back of his hand connected with her cheek, snapping her head to the side.  She didn’t make a sound as she spit out the instant flood of blood that pooled on her tongue before slowly turning her face back to stare at him: calmly, curiously—angrily.

“Your Grace, is it?” Evgeni nearly purred, tugging a pristine, white kerchief from his pocket and snapping it once before using it to methodically wipe the hand he’s struck her with.  “I hear that congratulations are in order . . .”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** Goldeninugoddess ——— AvinPhi
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Okmeamithinknow ——— Monsterkittie ——— Amanda Gauger ——— minthegreen
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from Saori**_ :  
>  _Evgeni-san_ …


	68. 067: Truth and Lies

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_67_** ~~  
~ ** _Truth and Lies_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“With all due respect, ojii-sama, might I insist that you _get your ass moving?_ ”

Sparing a moment to peer over at his impatient grandson, Sesshoumaru strode through the airport without missing a step.  “We’re going as fast as we can without drawing undue attention, Rinji,” he murmured just loud enough for Rinji to hear him.  He could understand his irritation, his frustration.  A freak storm that had rolled into Tokyo had prevented them from taking off as soon as they might have liked.  Seiji had been just as irritated, too, especially when Sesshoumaru had told him to go ahead on his business trip that would have been a nightmare to reschedule at this point.

Besides, there was no reason for Seiji to come along.  Truthfully, there hadn’t been a reason for Rinji to accompany him, either.  Sesshoumaru alone was more than capable of taking care of this little farce, and, given that Kagura and Aiko were already there, he didn’t figure that there really was anything to worry about.

No, it was more the simple irritation that someone would dare to lay hands on one of his own, especially a cherished granddaughter, that simmered just below Sesshoumaru’s calm façade.  It had little or nothing at all to do with the Inu no Taisho, but it did have everything to do with the ojii-chan . . .

“Damn it . . .”

“Calm yourself, Rinji.  As much as you might think otherwise, your sister is fully capable of holding her own,” he said, refreshing his grip on the long, narrow case held at his side.

“Except when it comes to Fai,” Rinji growled.  The edges of his youki were rough, frayed, harsh.  “No one’s ever that good at keeping a level head when it involves one’s mate.”

Sesshoumaru allowed that.  There was a good bit of truth in that, after all, and Sesshoumaru knew that as well as anyone.  Even so, Rinji’s own impatience spoke volumes.  A beloved baby sister, of course, and the young one had spent a lifetime, watching out for her . . . Still, Rinji needed to gain some perspective before he lost what was left of his own self-control . . .

“Again, I repeat, calm yourself.  Your mother and your grandmother aren’t far behind her.  Nothing will happen to Saori.”

“Easy enough to say, ojii-sama, but you know as well as I do that if Evgeni has backup, it may not be so easy—and he’d be a fool, not to have thought that through, too.”

“If he values his life, he won’t do anything hasty,” Sesshoumaru said.

Rinji snorted indelicately, shrugging the one large bag he’d brought along up onto his shoulder.  “What do you call having her kidnapped, in the first place?” he snapped back.

“A means to an end, Rinji: no more, no less.”

Rinji didn’t look like he agreed, but he gritted his teeth and swallowed whatever rebuttal had been forming on his tongue.

They wasted little time as they strode out of the main doors.  Once outside, they ducked into a niche built into the structure as Rinji yanked open the bag and handed Sesshoumaru his Mokomoko-sama before tugging out his own.  Rinji’s was more like Sesshoumaru’s—a long, boa-like piece, than Toga or Aiko’s were.  Toga’s was more of a shorter, wider version that he usually wore like a cape while Aiko’s was a very delicate one, much the same shape as Toga’s, that she secured around her waist, allowing it to trail out behind her . . . True enough, in this day and age, one rarely wore anything like that.  It wasn’t really necessary.  This time, though . . .

Sesshoumaru tossed the Mokomoko-sama over his shoulder before pressing his thumbs against the identilocks on the case he’d set down.  They released with a pair of soft clicks, and he lifted the lid, revealing three swords: Rinji’s Kiryuken, and his Tenseiga and Tokijin.  Rinji grabbed his and jammed the scabbard through his belt while Sesshoumaru did much the same.  As simply as that, the luggage lay, forgotten.  There wasn’t any help for that, given that he wasn’t about to waste time, securing a hotel room or anything of the sort.  He could easily replace both of those things, anyway, just as soon as they found and rescued Saori.

He glanced around one last time, making sure that they weren’t being watched.  Well out of the eyeline of anyone passing by, they both dissolved into energy form and took off, up and over, following the direction of Kagura’s lingering scent . . .

It was faded and a little more difficult to discern, but there, nonetheless.  He had little doubt that she’d taken her feather once she reached an area where it was safe to do so, and, if she had, then she’d likely also left a trail of markers to allow him to follow with ease.

Not that he couldn’t find her without such aids.  He could, simply by thinking about her.  It was a sense that had become second-nature over time . . .

Even then, however . . .

‘ _Wait for me, Kagura . . ._ ’ he thought as they closed the distance as quickly as they possibly could.  It wasn’t that he believed, even for a second, that she couldn’t handle things well enough on her own.  It was more that, after all of the ugliness that she’d lived through—that she had even perpetrated, thanks to being nothing more than Naraku’s pawn—he’d promised her so long ago that she wouldn’t ever have to add to those feelings of regret, of recrimination, that she’d suffered in silence for such a long time . . .

And it was that thought that spurred him on faster, that goaded him as he and Rinji’s energy forms zipped over the land.

 

* * *

 

 

“How many?”

“Three on this side,” Aiko said.

Kagura nodded as the feather floated high above the Feodosiv estate.  “I’ve counted four over here.”

Aiko slowly shook her head.  “I don’t know, kaa-chan . . . That doesn’t seem right, does it?  After the way Stepanovich-san described it, this seems a little anti-climactic . . .”

“I sense more, but I’m not sure where they are,” Kagura allowed.

“Is that Feodosiv-san?” Aiko asked, nodding at the imposing youkai, striding toward the small building where Saori had been taken.  Taras was with him, slightly behind him, with a couple others following along.

“I believe so.  Shall we?”

Aiko nodded.  “Yes.”

Veering to the left to loop back around to the front of the estate, Kagura frowned.  She still wasn’t pleased with the idea of leaving Saori alone, even for a short amount of time, but Saori had insisted.  She wanted to ask some questions, and she felt that Evgeni might be more willing to answer as long as he believed he had the upper hand.  Kagura and Aiko, however, had thought that it would be a better idea to take out the patrols on the ground outside first.  It was sound reasoning, even if it felt entirely wrong . . .

They dropped to the ground, both of them, hopping off of the feather as it shrank back down to the pretty little decorative piece that Kagura caught between her fingertips and stuck back in her hair.  It had been such a long time since she’d truly walked into battle, but some things were worth the fight—something she’d learned a long time ago.

‘ _Focus, Kagura.  You can waltz down Memory Lane later, after you’re sure that Saori is safe, and all is as it should be._ ’

Sound advice, that . . .

Pulling her fans out of the inside pocket of her jacket, she could feel the hostile youkai coming closer—just one: a thunder-youkai . . .

“Who are you?” he demanded, whipping a gun out of a holster on his hip, bringing it up to aim at her.  “What are you doing here?”  A moment later, his eyes widened, even as he leaned his head to the side, training the gun directly at the center of her chest.  “You . . . You’re . . .”

Kagura flicked a fan open and, in the same motion, unleashed four wind blades.  They moved faster than the youkai, though, and he shrieked as one of the blades neatly cut off his hands.  They fell to the ground, still gripping the gun.  He followed a moment later, dropping to his knees as blood gushed out of the severed limbs.

His screaming alerted the others in the area, and they closed in fast—the other three that Kagura had seen from above—but this time, Aiko was ready, darting past them, extending her claws, glowing in a hazy green and knocking aside guns as they were being drawn, unleashing a steady fog of poison from her deadly claws.  The weapons fell away in a toxic wash of fumes that filled the air.  Some of the youkai who weren’t fast enough in dropping theirs, screeched as the metal heated instantly to a red-hot burn under the spray of toxin.

Kagura’s lip curled derisively as she examined the security detail.  Youkai, all of them, yet they all possessed guns?  “Pitiful,” she growled under her breath as Aiko drew up beside her again.  Her poison was much like her father’s, manifesting itself in a form of acid that melted pretty much everything wherever it touched, regardless of whether or not she’d broken skin or hit an inanimate object.  All she’d had to do was to spray them with it, which she had, in abundance.

One of the men, she’d sprayed directly in the face.  His skin seemed to be melting off of him, hanging from his skull in tattering strips that were rapidly dissolving in a sickening grayish smoke that carried the stench of rotting flesh.  Screaming, babbling, he started to grip his cheeks, but yanked his hands back as they made contact and started to melt, too.  Another one was trying in vain to yank off a shirt and jacket while the acid burned straight through it and into his skin.  The third one was trying to lumber away—no small feat when his right leg fell off at the knee, and he keeled over, sprawling on the ground.

The mingled screams, groans, gasps of pain and despair, however, were growing louder by the second, and Kagura shook her head.   “Fujin no Mai!” she commanded as she unleashed another blast of wind blades, silencing them all in a gust of unnatural wind.  By the time it died down, the youkai were gone, and all that was left were smoldering piles of molten metal that used to be their weapons.

“As impressive as ever, kaa-chan,” Aiko mused, a very grim smile, surfacing on her pretty face.

“You’ve been practicing your acid fog,” Kagura said, casting her daughter an approving half-smile.

“I’ve gotten better at regulating the amount and concentration, yes,” Aiko admitted.

“Good girl,” Kagura remarked.

Aiko cracked her knuckles as she slowly scanned the area, but so far, there was not one else approaching—yet.

“We’d better get moving before reinforcements arrive,” Kagura said.

Aiko nodded, and the two hurried toward the trees . . .

 

* * *

 

 

It was unnervingly quiet.

Saori said nothing as she watched Evgeni pace the floor.  The way he was prowling brought to mind a caged animal at the zoo.  As a rule, her family tended to avoid such things since they really felt wrong, to keep those animals in such a place, no matter how well they were taken care of.  Even so, she’d gone one time with some school friends, and she remembered how some of the animals—the predators—would prowl around, systematically looking for their escape that never came.

Just what was going through his head?  Easy to say that he thought he’d won—something . . . The overwhelming quiet was rife with hostility that seemed to linger in the air.  It was almost enough to make her want to scream, and she had to clamp her jaw tight to keep the sound in.

It was a battle of wills, wasn’t it?  As the minutes ticked away, she understood.  He was trying to get her to break, to make her crumble under the weight of the silence.

‘ _It’s all a game to him, isn’t it?  All of it, including Fai . . . That man . . . He’s evil, Saori.  You underestimated him.  In your mind, what you truly hoped—wanted more than anything . . . You . . . You wanted to save him.  You wanted to do that for Fai’s sake._ ’

‘ _I . . ._ ’ Trailing off with an inward wince, her gaze following the pacing youkai, she gave a silent sigh.  ‘ _I guess . . . I think that’s what . . ._ ’

‘ _But you understand now that you cannot, right?  You cannot reach him because whatever is in his mind, he thinks he’s right.  He thinks that what he’s doing is the right thing._ ’

She swallowed hard.  Yes, she supposed that maybe, that was the truth of it and had been from the start.  She came from a family of healers, didn’t she?  And maybe that was the real reason . . . For Fai, she’d hoped . . .

“Do you have any last words, _Your Grace?_ ”

Grinding her teeth together at the absolute venom he’d inflicted in the mocking tone of her proper address, she narrowed her eyes but did not waver, her gaze, bright and clear and openly curious.  “What do you want from me?”

Evgeni’s deep rumble echoed in the quiet as Saori glowered up at him.  She yanked against the handcuffs, gritting her teeth as the ofuda contained within the restraints on her wrists dealt her a healthy shock.  The ropes still held her tight, though.

“So, you managed to sink your claws into Fai after all, didn’t you?” he growled in a pleasant tone that was wholly at odds with the absolute loathing in his eyes that he didn’t try to hide from her.

“Why do you care who he marries?” she demanded.  “What does it matter to you?”

“Oh, it matters a great deal,” Evgeni snapped, leaning down, his face, mere inches from hers.  “You . . . You’ve ruined everything—everything!  Everything I’ve worked so hard to put in place, and you—you . . . A poor social worker, fighting for the orphans?  Guaranteed to play on Fai’s good-will, and it worked perfectly, didn’t it?  Did you find out everything you could about him to start with?  Research him like some kind of school project?”

“Why would I do that?” she countered calmly.  “Why were you so keen on closing the orphanage, anyway?  What did it have to do with you?”

Evgeni laughed—a bitter, hostile sound, his fangs flashing in the dimmed light of the room.  “Just another thing in the long line of his failures,” he scoffed.  “But you . . .!”

“Because you wanted him to fail.”  It was more of a statement than an actual question.

“Yes!”

“And why’s that?” she prodded when he trailed off.  “Just what are you trying to do?”

“He’s just like the rest of them!  Proud, arrogant, unwilling to be swayed,” Evgeni sneered, turning on his heel, pacing the floor before her as the edges of his youki flared, sharp and menacing.  “Damn you . . . _Damn you!_ ”

Saori shook her head.  Nothing he was saying made any sense to her.  He was dangerously close to mad rambling despite the calculated calm that he was struggling to attain.  She could feel it, couldn’t she?  His inner turmoil . . . He wanted to kill her.  She’d seen it in his eyes, felt it in his youki . . . “You kept the tai-youkai account from him,” she said, careful to keep her tone, even, almost conversational.  “Why?”

Evgeni grunted, laughed almost incredulously.  “Everything was planned out so carefully,” he hissed, spinning on his heel to glower at her.  “It took years— _years!_   And it was all there, all perfect!  It should have been a revolution, but no . . . Then you showed up—changed him.  And now, he cannot hear me anymore because you—”

“A revolution?  That’s what you’re trying to do?  If you wanted that kind of change, then why didn’t you just challenge him?” she countered.

“I am no fool!” Evgeni spat.  “There are many ways to lead a revolution, and those damned Demyanovs . . .”

“He’s too strong for you.  That’s why you chose to skulk around, to hide in the shadows, isn’t it?  You know that you cannot defeat him.”

It took him two long strides to reach her, and she saw the hit coming well before it landed, snapping her head to the side again, drawing fresh blood as an explosion of pain surged through her.  She didn’t make a sound, though—not a whimper, not a gasp—as she turned to face him once more.  “Killing me will kill Fai, of course,” she told him.  “But Yerik-kun will take over, and if you think he’ll ever, ever trust you, you’re wrong—and Yerik-kun is just as strong as Fai in his own way.”

Her words only served to enrage Evgeni just a little more, and he strode back, grasped her face in his hand, squeezing hard as his talon-like claws dug into her skin.  “Shut your pretty mouth,” he growled.

He was trying to cow her.  It didn’t work.  Jerking herself out of his grip, she leveled a cold stare at him and sat up a little straighter.  “You really need to stop and reconsider what you’re doing.  You might well be able to use me as leverage against Fai, but—”

His laughter cut her off.  “Use you against Fai?  Oh, I intend to.  Which do you think he’d rather keep?  His mate . . .?  Or the office of the Asian tai-youkai?”

Saori slowly shook her head.  “You have one chance to let me go, Feodosiv-san.  If you let me go right now, I won’t tell Fai what you’ve done.  If you don’t?  He’ll come for me, and when he does, you . . . Well, you’ll wish you’d rethought it.”

“You stupid little girl!  You dare try to lecture me?  Me?”

“I’m just pointing out what ought to be obvious,” she said.  “But you—”

A strange groaning sound outside interrupted her, growing louder, more ominous with every passing second.  Evgeni shot one of his cohorts a look, and the youkai fumbled for his phone, obviously to call out and see just what was going on outside, but the feel of the youki that infiltrated the small building was familiar to her—and angry as hell.

She knew what was coming, and she just managed to turn her head when the groan erupted in a howl, a gale force wind that slammed into the walls, blasted open the huge and hulking doors that exploded in a harsh barrage of splinters and dust.

Saori blinked, struggled to see through the mass of debris that rained down, the cloud of dirt that hung so heavily in the air.  Kagura, with Aiko by her side, strode into the building, and behind them, Rinji . . . and Sesshoumaru . . .

The streak and snap of a harsh green light split the cloudy air, wrapped around Evgeni, around his throat, dragging him forward as the whip retracted.  The griffon-vulture-youkai choked, wheezed, tried in vain to yank against the energy whip, but only succeeded in burning his hands as the stench of his charred flesh fast overrode everything else.

Narrowing his amber eyes as he allowed the vulture to drop to his knees before him, as he released him from the hold of his energy whip, Sesshoumaru glanced at Saori for the briefest of moments, his youki touching her, searching her for unseen injury, before shifting his gaze back to Evgeni once more.

Sesshoumaru’s expression didn’t change, but the blazing fire in his eyes was as apparent as the crackle in his youki.  He didn’t move, and he was not the one to speak.  Kagura stepped forward, tapping one of her fans against her palm, and what was going through her mind was anyone’s guess.  “Tell me, Feodosiv-san . . .” she said calmly, her husky voice, nearly a purr.  “Why do you smell like my granddaughter’s blood . . .?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter REALLY early … Thank Danny McHaggis LOL! 
> 
>  ** _Kiryuken_** _: (Airflow blade): Rinji’s sword forged from InuYasha and Sesshoumaru’s fangs and imbued with wind by Kagura_.  
>  ** _Fujin_** _**no** **Mai** : Dance of Blades_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020 ——— Yashagirl89
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— Amanda Gauger ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— TheWonderfulShoe ——— minthegreen ——— Bonnie
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from Kagura**_ :  
>  _Dead meat_.


	69. 068: Bitterness

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_68_** ~~  
~ ** _Bitterness_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

A harsh bark of incredulous laughter issued from the griffon-vulture-youkai as he slowly shook his head, still rubbing his throat with a slightly shaking hand.  “That _bitch!_   She—”

“Might I suggest you watch yourself, Feodosiv, before you offend me more than you already have,” Sesshoumaru cut in coldly.  “You have already slighted my granddaughter far more than is wise, so curb your tongue before I decide not to wait for answers as to why you would think that you had the right to lay hands on Saori in the first place.”

“Your . . .?” Evgeni rasped out, an expression of absolute loathing on his face as the gist of what Kagura had said—of what Sesshoumaru had verified—finally sank in.  “She . . . The . . . The granddaughter of the . . . Inu no Taisho . . .”

“The Inu no Taisho has nothing to do with this,” Sesshoumaru remarked, narrowing his eyes dangerously.  “I am her grandfather, and you will answer to me.  Rinji, get your sister.”

Rinji nodded and started forward, only to stop abruptly, erupting in a harsh growl, as Evgeni’s backup pulled out guns and aimed.

Evgeni coughed, rasped out a harsh chuckle as he slowly pushed himself to his feet, flicking two fingers over his shoulder.  In response to his gesture, one of the youkai—a woman—a ferret-youkai—stepped behind Saori, cutting the ropes that bound her with a flick of her claws.  Then she grabbed Saori’s arm and hauled her to her feet and pushed her around, in the opposite direction, toward the small door off to the side, holding onto Saori as she cocked the damned gun and pressed it to the side of Saori’s head.  Saori, to her credit, didn’t make a sound as she was herded out of the building.

Evgeni shuffled back a few steps, his chuckles echoing in the otherwise silence.  Damned if the bastard didn’t think he’d won when the battle had yet to begin at all . . . “She’ll kill her if you do anything to me,” he pointed out.  “Your precious Saori will be dead,” he said, his eyes bright as a gloating kind of smile surfaced.  He touched the earpiece secured around his ear to emphasize his point.  “All I have to do is say the word.”

“And just what do you think you’ll accomplish with any of this?” Kagura demanded, flicking open a fan, but making no move to attack, tapping her mate in the center of his chest to warn him back with her other hand.  “Let me guess: you want power.  That’s it, isn’t it?”

Evgeni snorted, the hostility that drove him, radiating off him in waves.  “Demyanov and his predecessors . . . They cannot control this region.  They’ve _never_ controlled this region!  To dream of a new leader—a more _powerful_ leader—Is that wrong?”

“You mean, one that you can control, don’t you?” she countered, arching an articulated eyebrow to emphasize her point.

He blanched for a split second, just before the mad rush of color flooded his face, as righteous indignation drew him up straight—but not before Kagura saw it—the flash of guilt that he sought to cover up.  “It’s for the greater good!  Even a strong leader needs—requires—men who are able to see the bigger picture, the grand scope!  It . . . It is my _destiny_ to be such a man!  It’s—”

Kagura had heard quite enough.  All of this, all because he wanted to be able to dictate the law of the land without having to defend his own twisted agenda?  “Oh, please!  Do you think that you’re the first miserable bastard to try to play puppet master behind the scenes?  I assure you, you’re not.  You’re not even good at it.  Let Saori go . . . or I’ll make you wish you were dead,” she warned.

Again, that arrogant chuckle.  He thought that he had the upper hand, and perhaps he did—for the moment.  The connection between Evgeni and that woman needed to be severed . . . “You’re hardly in a position to make demands, Kagura- _sama_.”

She ignored the venom fairly dripping from the man’s acerbic tongue and shifted her gaze over the others stationed behind Evgeni, standing still as statues with their guns still aimed and ready.  “How dishonorable are you?  Guns?  Is your guard so pathetic that they cannot fight?”

“Times have changed.  Perhaps you ought to get out more,” Evgeni growled.

“What is it that you want in exchange for allowing Saori to go free?” Sesshoumaru interrupted before his mate could reply.

Evgeni didn’t look like he trusted Sesshoumaru’s question, but he slowly nodded.  “I want you to replace Fai with a worthier tai-youkai—one of _my_ choosing.”

“It is my policy not to interfere with the tai-youkai,” Sesshoumaru pointed out.  “Even so, in this region, there _is_ no one more fit for the position than the one who is currently tai-youkai.”

“That child?” Evgeni scoffed.  “He’s hardly a man, much less a leader!  Too busy, living in the past and the mistakes of his father!  There is no—”

“The mistakes of my father?  Maybe he wasn’t perfect, but he was right in one thing: you cannot be trusted.  Now, where is my mate?”

Striding into the building, Fai took in the damage, the surroundings, with a very quick glance.  The guns that were trained upon Sesshoumaru and the rest of them shifted ever-so-slightly.  They hadn’t counted upon his arrival, had they?  Now, they were trying to figure out who was most important to hold at the other end of their ignoble weapons.

Sesshoumaru glanced and Fai and slowly nodded one time.  “A woman took Saori out the back door.  Go find her, Faine.  We’ll see to this rabble.”

Fai nodded slowly, started to move forward, but the guns all shifted, aimed at him, and he paused.  “Guns would nullify your . . . challenge, Evgeni,” he pointed out.  “There will be no change in the House of the Tai-Youkai today, no matter what you do.”

“ _Blasphemy!_ ”

It was sheer instinct that kept Fai on his feet as Konstantin bellowed and dashed forward, heaving his mighty battle axe over his head, only to bring it down hard against the old wood floor that creaked and groaned, shivered and shook.  He unleashed what amounted to a small-scale earthquake that reverberated out from the point of impact, catching Evgeni and his minions off-guard as they struggled to remain standing.  The decrepit old structure could not hold—Fai could feel the foundation buckling, the very walls, trembling as they fought to remain upright—and he barely had time to extend his arm out behind him, his palm, open wide, as the golden dome of light enveloped them in the Demyanov barrier a split second before the rubble crashed down around them with a terrible crack and moan forced from the structure itself.  The roof crumbled apart as it fell in clumps, raining down, blowing up like a cloud of cloying grit and grime, so much so that it was hard to discern much of anything outside of the barrier that protected them.

A high-pitched hum, the flash of neon green light streaked past Fai’s face and through the barrier.  It caught guns and tossed them up in the air—Sesshoumaru’s energy whip, wielded with a frightening accuracy.

“Fujin no Mai!” Kagura yelled, whipping her fan, blasting a barrage of wind blades at the youkai who weren’t fortunate enough to be protected under Fai’s barrier.  Those razor-sharp blades caught the guns before they could fall, sheering them into pieces and rendering them completely useless in the process, clattering to the ground in soft thuds, in harmless clinks.

One of the youkai—a deer-youkai who Fai recognized from Evgeni’s Ivan Kupala celebration—dashed forward, yanking a pair of nasty-looking curved daggers from his belt, charging at Fai as though he were going to attack him, and Fai reached for the hilt of Kamennyy-Nozh as he let the barrier dissipate, but Rinji dashed past him, bringing up the blade of his sword to block the daggers.  The metal collided with a shower of sparks, the screech as the weapons clashed.  Rinji, however, was not well matched, and it took little effort for him to heave the deer-youkai back . . .

“Despicable bastards,” Konstantin growled, lumbering forward to face-off with an equally-large bull-seal-youkai.  “Do not sully your hands with vermin such as this, Your Grace!”

“Do you want to surrender, or do you want to die?” Aiko asked calmly, holding up a hand, cracking her knuckles as she stepped over to block the way before a rare quartz-youkai—he’d have been a jeweler back in the old days . . . Too bad he was one of _them_ . . .

“By all means, Princess—if you think you can . . .”

The woman smiled insincerely—an entirely chilling kind of smile, actually—as the claws on her hand illuminated in a vivid yellow-green . . .

A flash of another wind blade shot out, along with a piercing scream as Evgeni suddenly clutched the side of his head.  His ear was lying on the ground, along with the earpiece that had been hooked over it.  Another zip of Sesshoumaru’s energy whip disintegrated both of those things.

“I’ll leave that to you,” Kagura said, jerking her head at the last of Evgeni’s lackeys.  “I have a score to settle with Feodosiv-san.  Fai-sama . . . Go find your mate.  The rest of this is nothing but collateral damage.”

Fai wanted to object, simply because the idea of walking away from Evgeni was just a little more than he could stand.  Even so, Saori came first, and, without a second thought, he dashed forward, through the fighting, breathing deep to locate Saori’s trail . . .

“I’ll bring her back,” he called over his shoulder.

“Be sure that you do,” Kagura replied.  “Be careful.”

“I will.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You _bitch!_ ” Evgeni shrieked, still clutching the side of his head.

The crack of the energy whip resounded in the din, snapping just past Evgeni’s head, close enough to singe his cheek, but not close enough to cause lasting damage otherwise, though Sesshoumaru made no move to approach.  It was a warning—no more, no less.  A reminder that the griffon-vulture-youkai was dangerously close to crossing the line—a reminder of just who he was dealing with.

Kagura tapped her closed fan against her mate’s chest.  “Stand down, Sesshoumaru,” she said, taking a step forward as she flicked her fan open once more.  “That one belongs to me.”

“Kagura—”

Her head snapped to the side, pinning him with an icy stare, magenta eyes, flickering, flashing, her defiance clear—and absolutely magnificent.  “He drew her blood.  I’ll even the score.”

“You already did, you realize,” he pointed out in a rather reasonable tone since she had effectively cut off Evgeni’s ear.

“That?  That wasn’t even close.  Men like him . . . They need to choke on their arrogance.”

The vaguest hint of a smile quirked the corners of his lips as he stared at her for a long, long moment.  “Even so, Saori is my granddaughter, too.”

Kagura quirked a delicate black brow.  “Then perhaps you should have called it before I did.”

The remaining unoccupied youkai started to dash forward, apparently thinking that he could take advantage of the moment of seeming preoccupation between the two of them to make his move.  The flash of his sword—a nasty-looking black double blade—was like a shadow in the settling dust.  He lunged at them, drawing that sword over his head, holding onto it with both hands.  Sesshoumaru didn’t even glance at him as he caught the youkai by the throat easily, hefting him up high as the unfortunate youkai struggled against the hold.

“I want his blood, too, and this isn’t really a contest, Kagura,” Sesshoumaru went on, entirely ignoring the youkai held aloft.  He raked at Sesshoumaru’s wrist, his arm, struggling to gain his freedom and burbling nonsensical sounds in a pathetic attempt to get away.  “This one is not worth my effort.”

The man gasped, shook, choked, as the Inu no Taisho’s hand tightened, erupting in a toxic green glow.  His screams were garbled, cries of agony as the flesh of his throat, of his jaw, literally melted under the spray of venomous poison.  His cries died away slowly, his voice taking on a thickened, shredding wheeze, his body convulsing, as his skin, his bones, liquefied in a grayish-greenish glop streaked with crimson blood, dripping down Sesshoumaru’s hand, even as Sesshoumaru let go without a second thought, let the what was left of the youkai’s body fall in a pitiful heap among the wreckage.  The Inu no Taisho carelessly shook his hand, sending sprays of the youkai’s face, his skull, his brain, all over the rest of him—all over Evgeni, who stared in a state of shock, horror, at what he’d just witnessed.  That the youkai’s body remained was of no issue to Sesshoumaru, who flicked his energy whip once more, disintegrating the untoward mass in a flash of light and a tepid wind.

Then, Sesshoumaru shifted his gaze to the side, meeting Evgeni’s, straight on.  In those moments, he allowed the concealment he normally held as an afterthought to fall away, revealing the crests, the markings, the shadings, the blues and the deep pinks—Sesshoumaru Inutaisho.  “Now, tell me, Feodosiv,” he said, his voice low, even, almost silken as that barest hint of a smile surfaced once more, and this time, the flash of fangs seemed to glitter in the hazy light.  “How would you like to die?”

 

* * *

 

 

Konstantin grunted, jamming the stock of the fierce battle axe into the ground before locking hands with the bull-seal-youkai.  It was a battle of brute strength—one that Konstantin would be damned if he lost.

They were evenly matched, it seemed.  The seal-youkai wasn’t as tall as Konstantin, but he was burly enough, and he had the strength to match as he heaved against Konstantin but didn’t move him.  “You wish to fight me?” he goaded, digging in his heels, bracing his stance against the seal.

“You are the only one worthy to stand against me!” he gloated.

Konstantin grunted, then chuckled, the light of challenge igniting in his eyes.  “I should be saying that . . . You give up honor to serve in darkness!  Miserable fool . . .”

“Don’t lecture me, stupid bear!  You’re content to whimper and whine at the feet of the Demyanov!”

“You dare to insult His Grace?” Konstantin growled, giving the seal a good push.  “Bastard!”

“Truth hurt, does it?” he retorted, letting go of Konstantin’s hands, reaching back to put his weight into a hard punch.  His arm snapped forward, his fist connecting hard with the corner of Konstantin’s mouth with a loud thud, sending out a shockwave of pain, reverberating through his head.

Konstantin’s head snapped to the side, but he was not moved from where he stood, as though rooted to the spot.  Bearing his fangs in a vicious snarl, he slowly turned to face the seal-youkai once more, as he retaliated in kind—with a hammer-like force that sent the seal staggering back a couple steps before he could catch himself, righting his stance, and swinging at Konstantin again.

They exchanged punches a few more times.  The seal split Konstantin’s lip, drew blood from his nose.  Konstantin blackened his eye almost instantly in retaliation, heard and felt the crack of the seal’s cheek bone under the might of his fist.  With an enraged, almost frenetic cry, the two locked hands again, shoving against one another, and this time, Konstantin managed to walk him back a few steps before the seal dug his heels in, stopping Konstantin’s momentum, even if only for the moment.

“You will never win against me,” Konstantin pointed out in a low rumble.

“I, Jasha Kochenkov, cannot lose to the likes of you!” he spat.  “Upon the grave of my great grandfather—the mighty Jorga of the North!  You will fall, just like all that rose to oppose him!”

“Never heard of him,” Konstantin growled, merely holding the seal at bay but not giving an inch, either.  “If he’s in his grave now, then he wasn’t that mighty, don’t you think?”

“You dare slight my kin?” Jasha roared, his youki spiking dangerously, the jagged edges grating against Konstantin’s own.  “You will pay for that!”

Grasping the hand in his a little tighter, Konstantin gave a mighty yank, a twist, bringing the hand down and around, refusing to let go as the snap of bones echoed in his ears.  “Don’t lose your head, Jasha,” he ground out.  “Now, you’ve lost.”

The seal gasped, growled, but he did not scream, letting go of Konstantin’s other hand and taking a wild swing at him.  Konstantin yanked hard on the broken arm, upsetting the seal’s balance, as his arm snapped out straight, catching the seal in the middle of his chest with the heel of his hand, sending the miscreant flying back, straight into what remained of the far wall.  He broke through it with a resounding crash, an explosion of debris as Konstantin wrenched his axe free and dashed forward, swinging it around, above his head, the blade whistling and whirring, spinning faster and faster.

Jasha started to push himself to his feet as Konstantin let go.  The weapon shot forward, spinning like a helicopter blade, whirring in a high-pitched shriek.  The sound alone was enough to disorient many opponents, and this time was no different as the seal-youkai swayed on his feet.  He looked up just in time to see the approaching blade, but he could not avoid it as it cut through his throat cleanly, his body, committing itself to dust and wind before his severed head hit the ground.

“Hmph,” Konstantin growled, slowly shaking his head.  “Pathetic.”

He wasted no time in retrieving the axe, kneeling down to wipe the blade of the axe clean in the soft grass.  The others were still battling, but Konstantin had little doubt in his mind what the outcome would ultimately be.  That family was formidable, after all—real men amongst men, even if Konstantin hated to admit it.  Those sad little cowards didn’t stand a chance.

Besides, there was something else that required his attention, wasn’t there?  He’d be damned if he allowed Fai to walk into his fight alone . . . After all, if these youkai were low enough that they would resort to using guns, then there really was no telling, what they’d do when cornered . . .

Then, he set out, following Fai’s trail.

 

* * *

 

 

“Not bad, pretty boy,” the deer-youkai scoffed, slowly shaking his head, spinning the daggers on the palms of his hands as he slowly straightened up, sizing up Rinji, but lingering a fair distance away.  “Damned if you aren’t just . . . fucking . . . _pretty_ . . .”

“Not into guys, thanks,” Rinji growled, refreshing his grip on his sword, Kiryuken—a weapon forged from Sesshoumaru and InuYasha’s fangs and imbued with Kagura’s wind.

The deer chuckled.  “Saori’s your sister, is that right?  So, that would make you . . . Sesshoumaru’s grandson?  A little princeling, huh?  But then, you’re one that’ll never be king, now will you?”

“Senkuro Rinji,” he corrected.  “I don’t need to hide in ojii-sama’s shadow.”

“Rinji, is it?”  The deer chuckled and made a mocking bow.  “Well, Prince Rinji, I am Feliks Yelchin . . . Don’t think I’ll be defeated as easily as Kochenkov was.”

Rinji wasn’t impressed by the deer-youkai’s long-winded speech, nor was he cowed even a little by the ill-natured teasing.  “Are you stalling for time?  It won’t matter.  You understand, I was trained by ojii-sama—and InuYasha, along with Ryomaru when he wasn’t out, hunting down bastards like you.  So, if you think you can beat me, think again.”

The deer uttered an entirely amused, if not entirely arrogant, chuckle, as though something Rinji had said was highly amusing, and the sound of it grated on Rinji’s nerves, just the same.  “It’s been my experience that pretty boys like you aren’t really good at much but flashy moves and finesse,” Feliks mused.  “Almost makes me feel bad for this— _almost_.”

He whipped two shuriken at Rinji, who managed to deflect both with relative ease.  They landed harmlessly on either side of him—then exploded.  Rinji gasped as fragments of metal impaled his arms, his sides, his legs.  As though from a distance, in a hazy kind of realization, he heard Aiko scream his name.  The pain, however, was secondary—a mere nuisance, at best—as Rinji’s fury grew, and he sprinted forward, ignoring the twinges as the shards of metal dug in deeper, like they were burrowing into his flesh.

Feliks laughed triumphantly.  “My shuriken are made of special metal, designed to rip a path, straight through your body, right to your heart.  They’ll impale it—make you bleed to death from the inside out . . . So, enjoy your last moments on earth, grandson of the Inu no Taisho!”

“We’ll see about that,” Rinji growled, slapping way the next volley of shuriken and veering to the left to negate the subsequent explosions.  He could smell his blood, dripping from the wounds, but he ignored that, slapping the third round of shuriken back at Feliks, who had to jump to the right, even as three of them exploded directly where he had been just seconds before.

“ _Shisha no Uta!_ ” Rinji yelled, slamming Kiryuken hard into the ground.  He grunted as the glowing yellow crescents shot out, speeding across the distance fast—spinning and whirring so rapidly that they looked like perfect discs of fire—wind blades that decimated everything in their paths, and as they cut through, they seemed to sing, hence the name: the Song of the Dead.

Feliks screamed as those blades cut through him, severing limbs, nearly severing his head from his neck.  The blades sang louder, spun faster, sending blood, spraying in a macabre mist.  They broke free of the deer-youkai’s body, skimmed over the ground, only to smack into the ground fifty feet behind him in a groaning explosion as Feliks’ body exploded in a glittery dust and a gust of gale wind.

Only then did Rinji jam Kiryuken into the scabbard on his hip and turn back to make sure everyone else was still all right, grinding his teeth together as the metal shards dug in, deeper and deeper . . .

 

* * *

 

 

Evgeni slowly stared around at the rapidly dwindling number of his guard.  Once Feliks fell to Rinji’s attack, Aiko stopped, carting around, dashing over to her son.  She’d been making a good show of fighting Taras, but it was pointless now, given that everyone else was dead and soon enough, Evgeni would join them.  Even from the distance, Kagura could feel her daughter’s fear, her consuming worry.  She’d heard what the bastard had said about those shuriken of his, but Aiko, with her particular skills, could probably save Rinji . . .

The griffon-vulture-youkai’s eyes flared wide as he glared at Taras.  “You . . . You’ve betrayed me?”

“I worked for you,” Taras corrected mildly, dropping the pretenses as he sheathed his sword and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Her Grace offered me a better deal—one where I live, and you don’t.  That’s all.  It’s hardly betrayal—just good business.”

“I don’t think you’re going to get anything else out of him,” Sesshoumaru remarked slowly as he leaned toward her, shaking his head and looking a little disgusted.  Then he straightened his back, narrowed his formidable stare on Evgeni once more.  “You’ve lost, you know.  You’ve lost bigger than you ever thought you’d win, Feodosiv.”

“Go to hell, all of you!” Evgeni spat, drawing himself up proudly, as though his show of bravado would mean a thing.  Suddenly, though, he laughed—mad laughter.  Tossing his head back, the high-pitched, nearly hysterical howling laughter . . . And it took a minute for him to wind down.  Leveling a smug look at them all, he continued to chuckle.  “Sorry about your grandson, oh mighty Sesshoumaru . . . Let’s just call him collateral damage, shall we?”

“Your henchman did not kill him,” Sesshoumaru remarked evenly.  “Rinji will be fine.”

Evgeni’s laughter died away, and he narrowed his eyes as he turned his head, expression shifting into an angry grimace when he saw Aiko, her hand, bathed in the same green light as Sesshoumaru’s.  She’d shot her own acid poison into Rinji’s body—just enough to dissolve the metal shards and was in the process of extracting the toxin.  Rinji did look a little pale, a little off—considering the process, it wasn’t surprising—but he’d be fine soon enough.

“Damn you and all of your kind,” Evgeni growled, lip curling up in a defiant sneer as he turned his attention back to Sesshoumaru once more.  “Rot in hell, the lot of you!  This is not over!  Even now, your precious granddaughter is as good as dead!  Dead!  And then, the house of Demyanov will fall!  Mark my words!  The revolution—"

Kagura slowly blinked, entirely apathetic to his blustering.  “Your mistake, you know, is that you dared to touch Saori,” she said, drawing his attention as she stepped toward him.  “But you don’t care about that, do you?  Why should you care about that when you don’t even care about your mate—I assume you have one, don’t you?  So, you plot all of this, and you think that you’ll get what you’re after, and all the while, you, alone, are dooming not just yourself but also your mate to die.  I’m not entirely unreasonable, you see.  Had you thought to keep your hands to yourself, I might have had pity for you—for _her_ —but you . . . You are not kami.  You’re not even a martyr.”

“And you, so high and mighty . . . What gives you the right to make your decrees?  To inflict your whims upon us all?  You don’t live here.  You have no idea, just what goes on here, but you are so sure that you’re right!” Evgeni hissed, addressing Sesshoumaru and summarily dismissing Kagura entirely.

For a moment, Sesshoumaru said nothing.  In fact, he didn’t seem like he’d even heard Evgeni at all as he watched his daughter administer to his grandson.  Finally, however, his gaze shifted, locked with Evgeni’s once more.  “I earned the right a long time ago,” he finally said.  “I earned it through fire and blood and through battle against better than you.  You, who prowls in the shadows, who plots and plans and resorts to your lies and deceit . . . You are not worthy to challenge Faine, and you certainly are not worthy to challenge _me_.  Now, are you prepared to die?”

Drawing Tokijin slowly, the blade erupting in a bright blue light, flashes of lightning wrapping around it, crackling in the air, Sesshoumaru drew back to unleash Soryuha . . .

“Stop!  Stop!  My God, what are you doing?  Zhenya—Evgeni, what’s going on?”

The aura surrounding Tokijin’s blade dissipated as a small woman—a golden-fox-youkai—dashed forward, throwing herself against Evgeni’s chest as she trembled and shook, her beautiful face, streaked with tears as fear, harsh and abrasive, radiated in her youki.  “Who . . .?  Who are you, and why are you . . .?” she rasped out, glancing fearfully at Sesshoumaru, at Kagura, as she pressed in closer to her mate.

Sesshoumaru’s expression remained impassive.  “Your mate has been plotting against your tai-youkai,” he said.  “He had Faine’s mate kidnapped and is holding her hostage.  He must pay for his crimes—his treason.”

She shook her head, her confusion evident.  “But . . . His Grace . . . He’s . . . He’s your friend . . . Zhenya?  His mate?  You don’t mean Saori . . .?”

“He’s gone to great lengths to make it seem so,” Kagura remarked.  “All this long while, he’s done nothing but betray your tai-youkai and everything Fai-sama stands for.”

For the briefest moment, Evgeni glanced at his mate, almost seemed a little sad as he slowly shook his head.  “I . . . I’m sorry, Arrida,” he murmured.  “Stand aside.”

She shook her head, choked out a sob that she couldn’t restrain.  “No,” she whimpered, burying her face against his chest, bringing to mind another soul, another moment so long ago—a fate that couldn’t be altered—but why that moment, standing in the courtyard, watching helplessly as a young Zelig had clung to his dying father, came back to Kagura now, she didn’t know.  Or perhaps . . . perhaps the same desperation, the same sense of futility, that lingered in this woman’s youki . . . It was the same as the child Zelig’s, wasn’t it . . .?

“Arrida . . . please . . .” Evgeni rasped out, almost as though he’d forgotten that the rest of them were there, watching, waiting . . .

“ _No!_ ” Arrida wailed, attempting to press herself even closer to her mate’s chest.  “God, _no . . .!_ ”

Evgeni hugged her tight, kissed her forehead.  “Don’t follow me, Arrida.  Live . . . Live . . .” Then he shoved her away hard, yanking a gun out of his pocket in a fluid motion, that he brought up, held against the side of his head.

And then, he pulled the trigger.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS!
> 
>  ** _Kiryuken_** _: (Airflow blade) Rinji’s sword forged from Sesshoumaru and InuYasha’s fangs and imbued with Kagura’s wind_.  
>  **_Soryuha_** _: Tokijin’s blue dragon blast_.  
>  **_Zhenya_** _: common Russian nickname for Evgeni_.
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
>  _** xSerenityx020 ——— Goldeninugoddess ——— AvinPhi
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
>  _** Monsterkittie ——— Amanda Gauger ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
>  _** Nate Grey ——— Thanatos ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _Damn_ …


	70. 069: Destruction

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_69_** ~~  
~ ** _Destruction_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

 _Peering up without raising his head, Fai frowned as he watched the woman on the riverbank as she carefully cleaned the fish.  Hair catching the early evening sunlight that caught in the long locks, shining gently, lending her a bluish hint, she quickly tipped her head to the side, using her shoulder to push her hair back out of her face.  His frown deepened.  It wasn't black, that hair—almost, but not quite.  No, it was more of a dark, deep, glossy gray, kissed with those bluish highlights, incredibly long, ridiculously soft looking, perfectly paired with those silvery eyes, too.  Along with paleness of her skin, it gave her a dramatic kind of presence, and when she smiled, those same eyes of hers seemed to light up, sparkling like diamonds—like precious gems_ . . .

The memory had come to him, unbidden, unprovoked, and yet, something about it unleashed a stabbing ache somewhere around Fai’s heart as he dashed blindly, driven by the insular knowledge that Saori needed him.

‘ _Saori_ . . .’

‘ _Calm down, Fai.  We’re close.  We can feel her.  She’s all right for the moment.  Just . . . Just settle yourself because you can’t afford to mess this up_ . . .’

No, he really couldn’t.

It made no sense; not really.  That Evgeni was desperate enough to kidnap Saori?  And didn’t he realize that it was akin to signing his own death warrant?

‘ _Desperation makes people do foolish things, Fai.  Don’t you know that yourself?_ ’

He grimaced.  Yes, he supposed he did.  If he hadn’t insisted that she’d be safer with her grandfather, in his house . . .

A million recriminations ate at him.  He never should have sent her back to Japan.  He really had thought that she would be safer there, and yet, she wasn’t.  Never mind that the first thing he’d recognized when he’d neared the threshing house was the unmistakable scent of Saori’s blood, and even if it was merely a trace amount, it was enough to enrage him, too . . .

Where the hell was she?

 _Saori sighed again, her lips gently parting, allowing, maybe beckoning, the kiss to deepen.  The contours of her lips, of her teeth, the overwhelming sweetness . . . There was an innate innocence in her that spoke to him, even as she almost clumsily accepted what he gave her.  The moment he touched his tongue to hers, she shuddered, her hands slipping down to his shoulders, her fingers wrapping around fistfuls of his shirt.  The elevation in her breathing held him in check, uttered such a soft reminder that she was Saori, that she was precious to him—that she was the fairy tale that he hadn’t realized that he’d even wanted—wrapped up in bright smiles and silly notions, in impetuous freedom of spirit_ . . .

 _The taste of her was almost enough to drive him mad, the reluctant flick of her tongue against his, and she held nothing back from him, laid at all bare.  One kiss melted into another as a moment stretched on a gossamer thread.  Kissing her slowly, savoring every sigh, ever shiver, every quiver, every quake, he winced inwardly when a pang so sharp, so deep shot through him: a bittersweet sense that he couldn’t recall he last time he’d felt so sheltered, so cherished, as he did in that moment, and that was all right, too, wasn’t it?  Saori_ . . .

Grinding his teeth together as he impatiently brushed aside the lingering memory, Fai kept moving.  At some point, she’d been put into a vehicle—the pervasive reek of engine exhaust all but obliterating Saori’s gentler scent.  It didn’t smell like a car, though—maybe some sort of ATV—so he figured that she had to be near enough.

“Your Grace!”

Fai didn’t stop, but he did glance over his shoulder, only to find Konstantin, lumbering toward him.  “Move faster, Kostya,” he growled back.  “Took you long enough.”

“My apologies.  I tried to hurry,” Konstantin insisted, falling to step beside Fai, struggling to catch his breath since he’d had to run all-out in order to catch up with Fai.

“You’re fine,” Fai muttered tersely.  “Are the others—?”

“They’re still fighting,” he replied.  “I left after I dispatched the seal-youkai.”

Fai nodded.  “Good, good . . . but did you have to destroy the building?”

Konstantin grunted, then broke into an entirely self-satisfied grin.  “It was _manly_ , yes?”

Fai rolled his eyes but snorted out a sharp laugh.  “This is why you’d make a terrible hunter,” he pointed out.

Konstantin chuckled, but the deadly seriousness in his youki didn’t wane.  “I would defeat every one of your enemies, Your Grace!  I would teach them the error of their ways!  I would use their bones to pick my teeth!  I would—”

“And you would destroy whatever buildings they happen to be in,” Fai concluded.  “Forget it, Kostya.”

Konstantin looked entirely too pleased with himself to credit, and Fai shook his head.  “It was effective,” he defended himself.

“I suppose it was,” Fai grudgingly agreed.  “Wherever they’ve taken Saori, though, make sure you restrain yourself, will you?  I barely had time to put the barrier up around her family, you know, so if you do that again, you could easily hurt her.”

“Bah!  A true man is ready for any contingency, Your Grace!  And your reflexes were excellent.”

Fai snorted and rolled his eyes again, increasing his speed as he closed in on Saori, following the innate sense of her more than her scent.  “And you’re missing the point entirely.”

“Your Grace is a man amongst men!”

Shaking his head, Fai reached over, slapped Konstantin’s bicep with the back of his hand.  “Come on, you tank . . . She’s close.  I can feel her . . .”

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re a lot more trouble than you’re worth,” the woman—a ferret-youkai—remarked as she slowly, deliberately, paced around the pole where she’d secured Saori.  She looked like the type of woman who would be more at home in the midst of a big city, maybe working in some office, twenty-five stories off of the ground, taking jets around the world to sit in on the biggest board meetings, and yet . . . The only real sense of her impatience was a quick flip of her wrist as she glanced at her watch, frowned at the time.  “Damn that Zhenya . . . It would save a lot of grief if I just killed you right now, but he has to make everything a big, theatrical production . . .”

Wiggling her hands in the cuffs—Taras had made sure to fasten them a couple notches looser than he probably would normally, just enough that she could escape them with effort—Saori didn’t take her eyes off her captor.

She didn’t know where they were, exactly.  They were still on Evgeni’s property, but she hadn’t seen this area before.  On the edge of a fairly good-sized lake that was connected to the river that flowed up by the _cottegi_ , the boathouse they were in opened directly onto the water with only one small door on the far side, and the entire structure was built over the lake, supported on metal beams below.

She didn’t doubt that she could easily defeat the woman—if it were a fair fight.  But she still held that gun of hers, and that upended the playing field fairly drastically.  Even so, Saori was fast.  If she could catch the woman by surprise . . .

‘ _Fai’s coming.  You feel him, don’t you?_ ’

She did, and it bolstered her resolve a hundred-fold.  She could feel the brush of his youki against hers, and that was more than enough.  One way or another, she was going home—back to the Demyanov estate—where she belonged—with her mate by her side, damn it . . .

“Why do you work for someone like him?” Saori heard herself asking, trying to preoccupy the woman while she worked her hands free, all while trying not to draw attention to the slight movements of her shoulders as she sought to keep the handcuffs from making too much noise, too.

The question earned a very loud snort from the ferret-youkai.  “Work for him?  I don’t work for him!  Oh, he may think I do, but I assure you, he’s easy enough to manipulate.”

Her arrogant claim caught Saori off guard, and she blinked, slowly shook her head.  “If not him, then who—?”

“Who do you think put the ideas into his head?” she snapped, obviously irritated that Saori didn’t see the grand scheme of things that she apparently did.  That was it, wasn’t it?  She was . . . gloating . . .? “He’s so simplistic!  He thought that it’d be enough, just to plant the seeds of doubt in the Demyanov’s regents—the men that he should have trusted but doesn’t.  He thought that it’d be enough—raise enough challengers, and one of them would have to defeat him.  Je thought that it’d be enough—make the Demyanov look inept—bleeding his accounts dry, being forced to cut funding wherever he possibly could . . . Stupid, simple man.”

Saori slowly shook her head.  “So . . . So, you . . . made Evgeni-san think that everything was his idea?”

She chuckled.  It was a nasty sound: arrogant and condescending, as she flicked her hand, examined her nails, letting her gun flop rather carelessly from side to side in the process.  “For years, all he did was talk.  He wanted revolution—thought that it was all as simple as waiting it out—but he wouldn’t do a thing to expedite the process . . . He believed—honestly believed—that if he could get the right person into the office of tai-youkai, that he could whisper in his ear, make him his puppet!  He tried to do that with Fai in the beginning, too, but Fai wasn’t as simple to maneuver as Evgeni had hoped.  So, instead of trying to take care of the situation, what does he do?  He sits back, thinks that if he can just get Fai out of office that the next one, surely, would fall into his plans.  He played it all as if it was nothing more than a game of chess!  The fool!”

The handcuff was caught on the slight protrusion of the bone at the base of her thumb, and Saori could easily get it if she could yank in one good, solid motion, but it would give her away, too, and that was something Saori couldn’t afford.  She needed to keep the woman preoccupied, but interestingly enough, the woman seemed more than willing to gloat over her role in the whole plot.  If Saori could keep her talking . . . “But you can’t be tai-youkai.  Women aren’t physically strong enough to win it,” Saori pointed out.  “Just what do you think you can accomplish, then?”

That statement earned Saori a very hostile glare.  Apparently, what she’d said had hit home.  “Oh, don’t I know it?” she shot back, unable to repress the bitterness that tinged her voice.  “But then, I don’t have to be tai-youkai to wield the power of one.  All it really takes is . . .” Suddenly, she laughed, eyes narrowing dangerously as she very deliberately looked Saori up and down, as if she were sizing her up.  “All it takes is a few little smiles, a roll or two between the sheets.  Well, you know, don’t you?  After all, isn’t that how you hooked dear Fai?”

“Fai’s my mate,” Saori replied.  “I don’t attempt to tell him what to do.  Why would I when he does a fine job, all on his own?”

“Then you’re a foolish, stupid little girl,” she shot back.

“If you’re the mastermind, then who are you?” Saori asked.  “I mean, if this is all your master plan, then shouldn’t I at least be told who you are?”

For a moment, Saori didn’t think the woman would answer her.  Slowly pacing the floor, she seemed to be considering just how much she ought to divulge, but that seemed a little short-sighted, given that she’d already told Saori much, much more.  “Me?  My name is Katja Petrova—not that you really need to know that.  After all, you’ll be dead, your esteemed mate will die, and Yerik will either do as I say—or he’ll die, too, just like their darling mother, all those years ago.”

“Their mother?  What do you know about that?” Saori goaded, even as her arms, her whole body, suddenly rioted in an explosion of gooseflesh, even as a flood of foreboding swept through her.

Katja laughed that wicked, wicked laugh of hers once more, and she leveled a bright-eyed, almost manic kind of look at Saori.  “It’s so easy to bring down a dynasty, you know.  All it really takes is one loose wire—the right one, that is . . . and the cards come tumbling down.”

Staring at the woman, a slow understanding dawned upon her, and Saori shook her head, absolute disbelief slowing her mind to a crawl as a sickening sense of trepidation seeped through her.  “A loose . . .? You . . . You killed their mother?  Faina-sama . . .”

 

* * *

 

 

Konstantin reacted upon impulse, grasping Fai’s shoulder, yanking him back before he could charge the door of the rickety old boathouse.  Arriving there, just in time to hear those damning words from within, Fai wasn’t interested in stopping or thinking about what could happen if he were to go running in there blindly, recklessly . . .

“ _It’s so easy to bring down a dynasty, you know.  All it really takes is one loose wire—the right one, that is . . . and the cards come tumbling down_.”

Uttering a terse, fearsome growl, Fai tried to shake Konstantin’s hold off, but the latter yanked him back hard.  “Your Grace!  _She has a gun!_ ” he growled, barely above a whisper as he dealt Fai a curt shake to emphasize his point.  “And more than that, you—"

“That woman—!  You heard her!  _She killed my mother!_ ” Fai hissed back, glowering at Konstantin.

“Keep your head!” Konstantin warned, dealing Fai’s shoulder one hard shake.

For a long moment, Konstantin thought that Fai was going to disregard the warning.  Frankly, it was a miracle that the woman hadn’t yet noticed that they were outside.  Too busy, gloating over her own misdeeds, Konstantin supposed absently.  Fai tried to shrug off Konstantin’s hand, but the bear had anticipated it, and he refused to let go. Before either of them could reach an understanding, though . . .

The sudden upsurge in wind whipped off the lake like a strange warning, but it wasn’t a natural thing—more like a vortex that surged around the boathouse.  The building groaned and creaked as an unseen pressure built inside.  Konstantin felt it, grabbed Fai tight, and sprang back, away, just as the entire structure exploded.  Shards of wood, of metal and glass, bits of broken cinderblocks, clouded the air as two streaks of light—one a luminescent, almost sparkling white, and the other, a deep shade of orange—shot out of the ruins . . .

The two sparks flew up into the skies over the lake, and in a flash, they appeared: a huge grey dog that exactly matched the shade of Saori’s hair, though she had no tail, and the fur around her throat seemed sparser than it should have been—the lack of her Mokomoko-sama, Konstantin realized—and a sleek ferret—much smaller than Saori’s visceral form.  The dog—Saori—lunged after the slithering creature as Fai erupted in a loud growl and finally shook off Konstantin’s hold.

Konstantin blinked as Fai ran forward, into the lingering dust, disappearing in a flash of burnished golden light as what was left of the platform groaned and creaked under the weight of the rapidly transforming Asian tai-youkai.  A huge dog—maybe not as large as he might one day be, given that he was still fairly young in youkai terms.  He lunged into the air, wuffing harshly at his mate—the great red dog, easily triple Saori’s size—also missing his tail, his ruff, and yet, no less majestic as Konstantin blinked, gasped, thumped his fist against his chest and held it there.

There was something about the sight of them—Fai and Saori—as they stood, side by side . . . It was beautiful to behold, and not for the first time, Konstantin couldn’t help the insular though that those two . . . They truly were perfect for each other. 

Fai circled around the ferret as Saori lunged for the creature, catching her in her jaws, dealing her a good, hard shake.  The ferret managed to twist around, even as she screeched in pain, planting paws against Saori and heaving hard, an arc of blackened blood, spraying against the late afternoon sky as the ferret started to fall, only to catch herself as she unleashed a volley of dark orange energy balls, but they were wild, an attack released in panic, unguided, and easily avoided as Saori shot toward the ferret once more, issuing a warning growl at Fai, as though she were telling him that this ferret was her prey . . .

It looked like an intricately choreographed dance, almost—such grace, such power, laid bare for anyone to see.  Fai darted in, gnashed those powerful jaws, grasping the ferret’s tail, giving her a mighty yank as she shrieked in pain.  He tossed her to the side and lunged at her once more, but she was too fast, springing out of his path, only to be smacked back by the thump of Saori’s paw.

“Well, I’ll be damned . . .”

Konstantin nodded in agreement as Rinji skidded up beside him.  He could feel the collective youki of the others closing in fast, but he didn’t look away from the sky.

“I didn’t think transformation into the visceral form was possible without one’s Mokomoko-sama,” Rinji went on.

“It’s possible, but you give up a portion of your power,” Sesshoumaru explained.  “Doesn’t look like either of them is missing a thing since they’re together, though.  They’re more than a match for her.”

Even as they spoke, Fai bounded closer, only to back away slightly when the ferret swung a paw at him, unleashing a thunderous hiss that shook the earth and water.

Saori responded in kind, and the growl she uttered was enough to make the group steady their stances upon the trembling ground as she lunged at the ferret once more.

This time, though, the ferret was ready, catapulting herself at Saori, lighting on her back, digging in claws, teeth.  Saori shrieked, tried to shake the ferret off.  Fai shot forward, but the ferret sprang away just in time to avoid his powerful jaws.

The two dogs growled at each other—Konstantin couldn’t tell if they were arguing or simply checking to make sure they were all right, and slowly, they turned to look at the ferret, who was crouched, ready to spring again.  She did, darting between the dogs, trying to both attack and defend at the same time.  Howling once more—a sound meant to disorient her opposition—she dug her claws into Fai’s side, but Saori hit her hard, sent her flying across the sky, while both dogs dashed after her.

“Magnificent,” Konstantin breathed, more to himself than to the others.

“They are perfectly matched,” Aiko commented, a reverent quiet in her tone.

“But Saori-chan . . . She’s angry—very angry,” Kagura mused.

“That ferret . . . She killed His Grace’s mother.  She admitted it,” Konstantin said without taking his eyes off the dogs and the ferret.

“Is that so?  Then, that ferret will not see the sunset,” Sesshoumaru remarked rather casually.

Even as the words hung in the air, Konstantin’s eyes widened.  Both of the dogs stood, mouths agape, bright balls of energy, growing larger and larger while the ferret summoned a ball of energy of her own.  The crackle of them created a rise in the electricity in the air—Konstantin could feel the hairs on his arms, standing straight up—and all three seemed to release them in unison.

The ferret’s orange orb flew fast, closing the distance over the lake, but Fai and Saori’s seemed to melt together, erupting in a bigger golden light, and as it did, it gained speed, colliding with the ferret’s energy blast and obliterating it entirely, seconds before it hit the ferret in a flash of brilliance.

The ferret’s pained shrieks were lost in the void of the giant explosion of light and wind, so bright that he had to shield his eyes, his face, as the wind nearly swept him off his feet.  Waves rose on the water, washing over them up to the knees, the chest, trees bent outward, away from the force of the blast.  By the time the light died away, the ferret was gone, leaving behind a rain of dust that trickled down and was carried off by the capricious fingers of the breeze.

The great dogs lit on the ground not far from the group, and Konstantin smiled proudly as they shrank down, reverting back to their humanoid forms.  With a gasp, a roughened cry, Saori threw herself against Fai’s chest, and he hugged her tight . . .

 

* * *

 

 

The silence in the cozy office was almost deafening.

Sesshoumaru stood by the window, holding a glass of vodka, staring out at the night, but he hadn’t said much since they’d retired for the duration of the discussion.  Rinji sat on the sofa, looking a little worse for wear, probably due to the poison his mother had used to dissolve the metal shards from the shuriken—or so they’d told Fai.  Konstantin stood next to the door, silently guarding it.

Taras Stepanovich sat directly across from Fai, completely calm, while Fai contemplated what to do with the quartz-youkai.

Saori had told him on the way home, just what Taras’ involvement had been, and she told him that he wasn’t doing more than earning a paycheck, that he’d opted to help her instead.  It was a big deal, what he’d done, and as tai-youkai, Fai wasn’t sure he could completely forgive Taras for his part in it.   Sesshoumaru had held his own counsel on the matter, and Fai had to wonder if the Inu no Taisho weren’t testing him, waiting to see what he’d do . . .

“You worked for Evgeni, but you knew nothing about his plans?” Fai finally asked, breaking the silence that had fallen.

Taras shook his head.  “He never volunteered information, and I never asked.  Sometimes, it’s better not to know too much.”

Fai could understand that.  Even so . . .

A soft but curt knock sounded on the door, and Konstantin reached over to turn the knob.  Yerik stepped in with Kagura in tow.  “Sorry for the interruption, Fai-sama.  Saori-chan’s sleeping, and Aiko’s laying down with her, talking to Seiji, telling him everything, but your mate asked me to come down, to speak on behalf of Stepanovich-san,” Kagura said as Yerik poured himself a glass of vodka and sat down next to Rinji on the sofa.

“You mean, there’s more that Saori didn’t tell me?” Fai asked, only half-joking.

Kagura nodded, gliding forward—the woman was ridiculously regal in bearing, in movement.  Fai noticed it before, but it was something that struck him every single time he was around her . . . She stopped just behind Taras.  “Saori believes that Stepanovich-san can and should be forgiven for his part in this.  After all, he didn’t actually harm her, and even then, she’s come to think that you might even be able to find use for him in your employ.”

Fai blinked.  “In my—?  How is that?”

“Given his line of work, he might be fairly useful in more clandestine tasks—intelligence, subversive measures . . . Am I wrong in assuming that you’ve built a bit of a network in the years you’ve been working, Stepanovich-san?”

Taras seemed surprised by the question, but he nodded.  “I guess you could say that.  I have certain connections, of course.”

“Is that right?”

“It’s rather unavoidable,” Taras explained.

Fai nodded slowly, thoughtfully.  True enough, having someone who might be able to gather information that Fai himself couldn’t might be beneficial, but the question really was, could he trust him?  After all, if someone came along and offered him more money to work for the other side . . .

The thing was, Fai wasn’t up to making a decision about him yet, not when the only thing he really wanted to do was to go upstairs, pull Saori into his arms—and sleep, possibly for the next hundred years.

He sighed, dragging his hands through his hair as he frowned at the errant youkai.  “Let me think all of this over for now,” he finally said.  “Kostya, can you keep an eye on Taras?”

“It is my honor!” the Siberian said, pushing himself away from the wall.  “Come.”

Taras stood, but he said nothing as he turned and followed Konstantin out of the room, and after they were gone, Fai sighed again and started to rise to his feet.  “I know that I need to figure out what to do with him, but right now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’m tired, and I . . .”

“Saori told me what Katja Petrova told her about your mother—and about her part of Evgeni’s scheme,” Kagura cut in when Fai trailed off.  He stopped and dropped into his chair once more.  “I knew she was angry.  She’s not in the habit of taking to her dog-form, so she’s exhausted . . . But about Faina-sama . . . I’m sorry, Fai-sama.”

“Don’t be,” he told her, pushing himself up out of his chair once more, dragging his hands through his hair, feeling so much older than he had this morning.  “Nothing will bring her or my father back, and . . . and they’ve been avenged.”

This time, no one made a move to stop him as he strode out of the office and down the hallway, heading for the stairs.

It was all so much to take in, and, to be honest, he’d tried hard, not to think about that part of it since the fight in the skies.

So much destruction over such a foolish reason and trying to place the blame was just a little more than he could stomach at the moment.

“ _It’s so easy to bring down a dynasty, you know.  All it really takes is one loose wire—the right one, that is . . . and the cards come tumbling down_.”

Those words . . .

‘ _So, she arranged your mother’s death, just to ensure your father’s death, too . . . and Sesshoumaru told you what Evgeni had said—what he’d wanted.  He’d wanted to rule the region, using you as his puppet.  As if you wouldn’t have seen right through that . . ._ ’

‘ _But I didn’t, now did I?  I never saw it because I didn’t think to look for it.  And . . ._ ’

His youkai-voice sighed.  ‘ _Don’t, Fai.  What you’re thinking . . . It won’t happen._ ’

He frowned.  ‘ _Won’t it?  Just because we put an end to Evgeni and Katja’s plotting doesn’t mean that the threat is gone.  What if they were just the start?  Saori . . ._ ’

‘ _Saori’s strong, you know.  You saw her.  You fought beside her, and you know, too, don’t you?  If it had come right down to it, she would have won, all on her own._ ’

Pausing outside the door to his antechamber, Fai squeezed his eyes closed for a long moment.  True enough, he’d seen it himself.  She really was strong, and yes, she could hold her own among the best of them.  But . . .

But the fear, the overwhelming desperation during those hours when he hadn’t known . . . It was all still just a little too real, a little too fresh in his mind—a little too painful to bear . . .

His hand faltered as he reached for the handle.  He’d seen the cuts on her face, the swollen jaw, the bruising where Evgeni had struck her, and suddenly, he was ashamed.  His mate, and he’d failed to protect her . . .

Yet, just as those thoughts came to him, so did the brush of Saori’s youki—soft and gentle.  She . . . Sleeping or not, she was calling to him, and he suddenly had to blink fast, staving back the suspect moisture that filled his gaze and hazed over his vision, the constricting of his throat as she’d found a way to humble him, to remind him that it wasn’t about him, wasn’t about what he’d failed to do, and next time, he’d do better—if there was a next time.  If he had anything to say about it, there never would be . . .

And it was Saori who gave him the courage to open the door, to step inside.  He could hear Aiko’s voice, soft and reassuring, well before he stepped into his room—their room.  She glanced up at him and smiled, but she looked exhausted, too.  Then she stood up, pausing long enough to lean up on her toes, to kiss him on the cheek, before letting herself out of the room.

Letting out a deep breath as he closed the door, as he shuffled over to the bed, Fai spared a moment to stare at the sleeping woman.  She’d had a bath—he could discern the scent of her soaps, and in the dim light of the one lamp left burning, she looked entirely fine other than the trace discoloration still visible on her jaw.  The abrasions on her cheeks were gone, healed, and Fai smiled, just a little.

Then, he crawled into the bed, not bothering to remove his clothes, pulled her into his arms, against his chest, and in the wan light, he thought that maybe she smiled.

He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of her, savoring the steady beat of her heart.

And as he fell asleep, his last, lingering thought was just how perfect she felt, nestled close to him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Another bonus chapter because I’m bored and having a “nobody loves me” day_ …
> 
> == **_== == == == == == == ==_** ==
> 
> **_Reviewers_ **
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _MMorg  
> _** xSerenityx020 ——— Goldeninugoddess ——— AvinPhi
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _AO3  
> _** Monsterkittie ——— Amanda Gauger ——— Okmeamithinknow ——— minthegreen ——— TheWonderfulShoe
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Forum  
> _** Nate Grey ——— cutechick18
> 
> ==========
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Saori_** :  
>  _Home_ …!


	71. 070: Aftermath

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_70_** ~~  
~ ** _Aftermath_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Fai stood, eyes closed, head tipped forward, under the flowing tap as hot water beat down on him.

He’d slept for almost three hours—a fitful sleep, full of nightmares and half-formed dreams that were forgotten as soon as he neared consciousness.  He really didn’t have to have memory of them, though, to know what they were all about.

“ _It’s so easy to bring down a dynasty, you know.  All it really takes is one loose wire—the right one, that is . . . and the cards come tumbling down_.”

And it really was as simple as that.

He’d tried to stay in bed when he’d realized that there was no chance that he’d manage to drift off again.  As exhausted as he was, his brain simply wouldn’t stop, no matter what he tried, no matter how hard he’d sought to put it all from his mind.

So, he’d kissed Saori on the temple and carefully got up, heading down to the hidden annals, searching for the copy of the official report on the fire in Sri Lanka all those years ago.  It said, of course, what it had always said: malfunction of the solar cell collection batteries that had caused an electrical short in the house.  It was an accident.  That was what she’d wanted it to seem like—Katja—Ekaterina—Petrova . . .

From as near as he could figure from recollection, from the scant information he’d been able to find on the internet, she’d worked for Evgeni for a very long time, and all that time, by her own account, she’d been the one manipulating him, and all the while, he’d thought that he was the one—the mastermind—and he’d gone into his grave believing it, too.

Common sense told him that he really needed to find a way to let it go.  After all, all the parties involved were all dead on both sides of it.  That was easier said than done, and that was the problem.

That same common sense, too, told him that it wasn’t his fault; that he couldn’t have possibly known.  They hadn’t wanted him to suspect a thing, and they’d done their jobs well.  That didn’t really alleviate the consuming sense of guilt that twisted his gut: the feeling that he was nothing but a gullible fool for taking everything at face-value—for taking _Evgeni_ at face-value . . .

‘ _But you realize, don’t you?  At some point, it’s going to have to be enough.  There’s nothing else you can do.  You cut off the serpent’s head, so to speak, and you brought everyone home with you.  There’s really nothing else you’ll ever be able to do, and eventually, you’re going to have to make peace with that, too._ ’

He sighed, reaching out, shutting off the water as he fumbled blindly for a towel.  ‘ _Maybe, but . . . But now, how do I really know who I can and cannot trust?  After everything . . . Evgeni . . . I thought . . ._ ’

‘ _You thought he was your friend because that’s what he wanted you to believe, and he was damn good at convincing you, too.  But you know how to figure out, who you can trust.  Look at Kostya.  You’re not wrong about him.  He’s about as loyal as they come, and if you were to try, I’m sure you’d find more allies than you ever thought you had.  Those men who have been loyal to the Demyanov family are still just as trustworthy as they’ve ever been.  There was a reason they were named your regents in the beginning.  Sure, being tai-youkai can be a lonely job, but you’ve already realized that it’s something that you really can’t do alone.  Just look at the other tai-youkai.  Every last one of them has a board of advisors, just like your regents, who are there to assist their leaders._ ’

Wise words, really—if Fai could figure out, just how to allow himself to loosen the reins that much.

It didn’t take long for him to dry off and dress.  His hair was still on the wet side, but he didn’t really care as he clubbed it back to keep it out of his face.  Glancing out the window, he sighed.  It was still dark out, but he could discern the slight lightening on the horizon.

He’d make a breakfast tray for Saori and him, and he’d spend the morning with her.  Then he’d try to figure out, just what to do about Taras Stepanovich . . .

He made his way downstairs, stepped into the solar to grab a cup of coffee, but he stopped short when he spotted Rinji, already at the table, idly turning a mug between his hands, staring at it thoughtfully with a marked frown.  From the way he was sitting, Fai had to wonder, just how long he’d been there.  The normally friendly and upbeat man he’d come to know was subdued, almost somber—almost sad . . .

“You’re not sleeping?” Fai asked, pouring himself a cup and shuffling over to take a chair nearby.

Rinji sighed, his expression almost foreboding, delineated with a seriousness that was entirely intense.  “I . . . I couldn’t,” he admitted.  “I tried, but I . . . I couldn’t stop thinking . . .”

“I know that feeling,” Fai said, slipping into a chair, sipping the hot brew.  “Was the poison still bothering you?”

“Uh, no,” he said, shaking his head as he made a face at his mug.  “Well, a little, but nothing I can’t tolerate.”

Fai frowned, jaw shifting to the side as he stared thoughtfully at his brother-in-law.  “Arrida . . .” he concluded.  It really didn’t take much to figure it out, and it didn’t really surprise Fai, either.  Given that Rinji really was a decent and kind person . . . Well, it had surprised Fai, to say the least . . .

The slight tightening in his jaw was accompanied by the vaguest hint of a nod.  “I just . . . I mean, I did the right thing.  At least, I _think_ I did . . .”

Fai grimaced, but Rinji didn’t see the expression, which was probably a good thing.  He’d been briefed on the way back home about what had gone on after he’d taken off to find Saori, and he didn’t have to be brilliant to realize that Rinji, despite his feeling that what he’d done was the only real thing that he could have . . . “If it helps, I think you did the right thing, too.”

Rinji nodded slowly, almost methodically.

From what he’d been told, after Evgeni had shot himself, Arrida had begged them to kill her, too, said she didn’t want to linger, didn’t want to waste away with nothing but her memories.  No one had seemed willing to comply with her voiced pleading, though—no one but Rinji—Rinji, the logical one who could easily rationalize any given situation, all the angles, all the variables, and all within a matter of minutes—maybe seconds—who could ultimately understand the wider scope of things, the ramifications . . . Arrida would die eventually, and if it were him, Fai wasn’t sure he could have wanted to try to hold on, either . . .

“To her, it didn’t matter, what he’d done,” Rinji said, his voice rather gravelly, very low.  “She still loved him, and there wasn’t a point in belaboring the process for her, especially not after everything she’d seen . . .” Trailing off with a sigh, he downed the coffee in his mug and made a face since it was pretty cold.  “It was the kindest thing I could do for her.  Even so, I . . .”

“You . . . You made the call that no one else could, didn’t you?  Even though they all knew that it was the kindest thing, that doesn’t make it an easy choice,” Fai said, standing up to retrieve the insulated carafe of coffee off the sideboard.  “It was the right thing, absolutely, given that the options were few.  If I had been there, I’d like to think that I’d have chosen to do what you did . . . But it still bothers you.”

Rinji grimaced again, only this time, it had nothing at all to do with the coffee.  “I’m not in the habit of fighting to the death,” he said, “and I’ve never, ever taken a life outside of a fight.  To be honest, yesterday was the first time, and . . .” He winced, slowly shook his head.  “It’s just . . . It’s ugly.”

Fai nodded, sparing a moment to slosh more coffee into Rinji’s mug before refilling his own.  “I figured it was something like that.  To be honest, I think that I’d feel pretty much like you do if it were me.”  Slowly swirling he contents of his cup, Fai stared at the churning drink, watched idly as the steam rose from the surface.  “The, uh . . . The first time I was challenged was soon after my father disappeared—days after, actually . . . an old weasel-youkai who didn’t think that someone my age could lead the youkai . . . I knew logically that I couldn’t back down.  It’s not an option, and yet . . . It wasn’t a fair fight.  The weasel had to know he couldn’t have won against me, and still . . . But, as I stood over the place where I’d defeated him, and I tried to rationalize everything in my head—tried to tell myself that I hadn’t had a choice, that it was the result of any challenge ever made: there would always be a winner and a loser . . . And I thought, I was just doing what was expected of me.  Then I realized that this man . . . He probably had a mate, a family, back home, waiting for him.  And I wondered for a long time afterward, were they still waiting for him . . .?  But he . . . He’d never go home again, and . . . and that kind of realization . . . It’s tough.”

Rinji shifted his gaze without moving his head, pinned Fai with a quelling kind of expression, one that brought Sesshoumaru heavily to mind.  In that moment, the familial resemblance between Rinji and his esteemed grandfather was even stronger than it normally was, and at any other time, it was already glaring.  It was rather astounding, really.  “I . . . I keep telling myself that it was for the best.  I just . . .”

Fai nodded, offered Rinji a small smile.  “If you didn’t feel the way you do, Rinji, then you wouldn’t be half the man I think you are.”

Rinji blinked, frowned, and grimaced.  “Thanks,” he said, lifting his fresh mug of coffee, hovering it before his lips.  “I . . . Thanks . . .”

 

* * *

 

 

Saori awoke slowly, feeling the lethargy of peace that delineated everything around her, and she realized that she was home—in her home, in her bed—and she smiled, even before she opened her eyes.

The rustle of paper drew her attention, though, and she rolled over, pushing herself up on her elbow as she stifled a yawn with her other hand.  “Fai . . .”

Lowering the edge of the newspaper he held, he shifted his gaze to the side.  “Morning,” he said, shaking out the paper before folding it up.  “Did I wake you?  I didn’t mean to . . .”

“Uh uh,” she murmured, sighing happily as he scooted down and pulled her against his side.  “I slept so well . . . I didn’t sleep as good in Japan.”

“I didn’t sleep well while you were gone, either,” he admitted.  Then, he sighed.  “I’m sorry . . . You shouldn’t have been put into that situation, and it’s my fault.  You—”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she interrupted, smashing her hand over his mouth to stop his words.  “You’re safe—I’m safe . . . Everyone came home with us, so everything’s just fine . . . At least, it _will_ be.”

Reaching up, catching her hand that covered his mouth, he grasped her fingers, kissed her knuckles.  “The official reports say that it was a faulty wire that caused the batteries in the house to overcharge.  That’s what it said caused the fire.  It didn’t occur to me . . . Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe . . .”

“It’s over now, though, isn’t it?  You defeated her, and—”

“ _We_ defeated her,” he corrected.  “Which reminds me.  Did I tell you just how magnificent you were in your visceral form?”

She giggled and buried her face against his chest.  “I lost my temper,” she admitted.  “That was why . . .”

“Yes, well, it happens, right?  Besides, seeing you like that . . .”

She giggled in an almost embarrassed kind of way, and he let her for a few moments before catching her under her chin with a crooked index finger, lifting her face, kissing her gently as her laughter died away.

“I have to admit, I thought it was hot as hell,” he murmured between kisses.

She gasped softly as he nipped at her lower lip, rolling over, only to catch himself on his elbows on either side of her as he slowly, deliberately deepened the kiss.  The tremors of sheer anticipation rattled through her as his lips pressed against hers, as he gently flicked the tip of his tongue against hers.  She let them open with a delicious shiver, savoring the taste of coffee on his breath, the underlying emotion that tempered his rising need.

Running her hands up under his untucked shirt, she marveled at the feel of his skin under her fingertips, the rises and hollows, the give and take as the muscles under his skin moved in a perfect dance.  Everything about him crashed down on her, overwhelmed her in a wholly welcome way.

He groaned against her mouth, the sound captured and muffled, even as he pushed himself up, his breathing, ragged and harsh, and he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt—his hands were shaking.

Saori sat up, pulled off the oversized tee-shirt she’d donned after a long bath the night before, discarding it on the floor beside the bed as she dropped back down against the mattress once more, only to hook her panties on both hips, lifting her pelvis to slip them off.  Fai heaved a longsuffering sigh as he pushed himself up off the bed to remove his pants.  She giggled when he forced himself to draw in a deep breath before attempting to unfasten his slacks.  “Maybe you should have stripped before you crawled back into bed?” she teased, making no bones about giving him a very, very lazy once-over.

Her question earned her a very dry look.  “Hush, woman,” he growled, giving the slacks a rather vicious yank.

She rolled over, onto her hands and knees, pushing herself up on the edge of the bed to slip her arms around him, kissing the exposed flesh of his stomach.  “My mate is such a handsome man,” she whispered.

His answer was a very pronounced growl, accompanied by a discernable shiver as he finally kicked his pants aside and reached out to grab her.  She was quicker than him, though, and, with a giggling squeal, she tried to crawl away.  He caught her hips, yanked her back, unleased a loud, long groan as he slammed into her in one fluid motion.

She gasped, her head falling back as a visceral shudder ripped through her, as a need so vast, so deep, spun out of her control.  Reacting on a primitive level, she whimpered when he started to pull away from her, only to yank her back once more, an almost vicious surge of power, of strength, and she cried out, her body trembling, as she reared back against him, reeling from the pleasure that bordered on pain.

Grasping handfuls of the blankets beneath her hands, she moaned, panted, gave herself up to the absolute passion that goaded her, balancing so precariously on the cusp between want and fulfillment, that hazy space that felt just out of her reach.

Fai gasped, groaned, pulled her legs a little wider apart without missing a stroke as the scent of their bodies blossomed in the air.  She could feel the tension in him escalating as he thrust harder, faster, and she couldn’t help the scream that tumbled from her lips as the invisible bands the held her back suddenly snapped, as she tumbled into the sheer and consuming light that obliterated all reason, all sanity, and somewhere, as though from a distance, his own cry melded with hers, his body bearing her forward, down against the bed, as he crashed down on her, as he thickened, released, trembled, shook . . .

It took a few moments for her mind to clear, for the oblivion of her orgasm to fade, but it wasn’t done.  Somehow, he’d managed to turn her over, was still inside her, but this time, he moved with such a sweet slowness that matched the lingering kiss as he brushed the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks, buried his fingers, deep in her hair.  She kissed him back, slipped her arms around him, holding him as close as she could, bracing her feet against the mattress, undulating her hips against his in the maddeningly slow cadence.

“My . . . mate . . .” he murmured between kisses, his voice, barely more than a whisper, a caress.

“Fai . . .” she breathed, wishing that she could say more, unable to command language when the surge of absolute love she felt had the power to render her breathless.

So, she told him the only way she could, the only way that made sense, in the entirely intuitive flow of her body.  Slipping her legs up over his hips, locking her ankles together to hold him near . . . He groaned at the deeper access she allowed him, hefting himself up on his elbows, reaching down to cradle her hip, her ass, against him . . .

The beat of his heart, so erratic and yet, so reassuring, sounded in her ears.  His labored breathing was a balm on her emotions, a welcome shelter in the turbulence of her spinning desire.  Everything about him spoke to her, steadied her, even as the wispy tendrils of passion built slowly, steadily.

Every thrust was painfully slow, and yet, there was a steadiness that somehow felt so very right.  As though he were afraid of breaking the moment, the tenderness in his every movement was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

She felt everything, savored the raw emotion that he laid bare, just for her.  It was more than just a carnal act, and she felt that, too, with every caress, every touch, ever murmured endearment.  He was telling her, wasn’t he?  Telling her that he would never let her go again, and that thought . . .

Even so, the need that built inside her was brutal, unyielding, and as much as she loved it, the mounting desire was too hard to ignore.  Dragging her claws up and down his back, tightening her legs around him, only to release, to allow him to withdraw just a little before, dragging him in deeper, she asked him without words for what she truly needed, and he responded, quickening the pace of his thrusts, rising up on his hands, bracing himself on either side of her as he slowly increased his movements, grinding his hips against hers, touching the very core of her . . .

“Kami,” she breathed, opening her eyes, just for a moment, yet unable to meet his gaze as her body clouded over her mind once more, as sensation nudged aside reason.  “Fai . . .”

He understood what she wanted to say, and with a growl, he slipped his arms under her, rolled them over, her knees falling onto the mattress on either side of his hips, as he pushed into her a little deeper.  She gasped, rocking her hips against his, weaving her fingers between his, allowing him to brace her as she rose and fell on him.

It was shocking, stunning, and every thrust only served to fuel the fiery burn.  So deep, so hard, so thick . . . She moaned, keened, braced her hands against the center of his chest as he grasped her hips, as he jerked her down on him time and again.  She could feel his body thickening, pulsing, and he pulled her down hard one last time, only to manipulate her hips in a tight circle, grinding her body against his as the last strands of reason snapped once more, as she collapsed against him, half-laughing, half-crying, and somewhere in the middle, she heard her name, tumbling from his lips as his orgasm—scorching and wickedly welcome—filled her, overflowed her, dripped from her onto him . . .

She heard him talking, gasping out words that made no sense to her, felt his hands, stroking her hair, savored the wildly erratic beat of his heart under her cheek as her own heart hammered against her ribcage.

It took what felt like such a long time for her breathing to calm, for her mind to clear.  Cossetted in the warmth of his arms, her head against his chest, she uttered a choked and raspy laugh that turned into a groan when he slipped out of her.

“That was mean,” she told him, squirming around to lean on her elbow.

“Maybe,” he agreed with a chuckle.  “You know, I brought you breakfast.”

She gasped, sat up, started to toss her legs over the side of the bed, but he caught her and pulled her back down against his side.  “Thought you wanted me to—”

“But you brought food up here,” she interrupted, “and I haven’t eaten anything in a couple days—nothing substantial, anyway.”

He grunted.  “You’ve got to be kidding me . . .”

“On the contrary, Fai, I never joke about food,” she informed him.

He sighed and kissed her forehead.  Then he let go and got up to retrieve the tray he’d left on the small table near the window.

 

* * *

 

 

Saori giggled as Fai led her by the hand, out onto the patio where, he’d been told, everyone was gathering for a late lunch.  He stopped short, and she crashed into his back.  “Fai!” she scolded, leaning to the side to peer around him, only to blink and stare as she watched . . . Well, she wasn’t entirely sure, what she was watching, to be honest . . .

“Who the hell is that?” Fai mumbled, almost more to himself than to her.

“I . . . I don’t know, but . . . Oh, kami!”

With a loud shriek, she pulled her hand away and dashed around Fai, over to the stone steps that led to the garden below, leaving her puzzled mate in her wake.

“Saori-chan!”

“Evan!” she yelled, literally throwing herself into her cousin’s open arms.  He looked positively dreadful—crazy orange hair, weirdly too-vividly-green eyes—but it was most certainly him—Evan Zelig, son of the North American tai-youkai and his mate, who Saori had always called Gin-oba-chan.  “What are you doing here?”

He spun her around, eliciting a very loud round of giggles, before depositing her on her feet once more, though he kept one arm, slung around her shoulders.  “Eh, have a gig in Moscow tomorrow night, so I figured I should at least check in on you.  Brought you a wedding present, too, but I’m not sure where you’ll keep it.”

“What did you bring me?” she asked, knowing Evan’s penchant for gifting people with the strangest things.

His already broad grin widened even more.  “You’ll see.  So, this mate of yours . . . a tai-youkai, huh?”

She giggled.  “Yes, but that’s not why I’m with him!”

He laughed.  “Well, hell, no!  It’s because he has a tai-youkai-sized-penis, right?  I mean, he does, doesn’t he?”

Her giggles turned into something more of an embarrassed chatter, and she hid her face against Evan’s chest.

“I may not be speaking for everyone, but I, for one, really would rather not hear the sordid details regarding Fai-sama’s penis,” Rinji remarked in an even drier than normal tone.

“Well, it’s kind of a valid question,” Aiko murmured, tapping her chin with a tapered claw in an almost philosophical way.  “I mean, are there special prerequisites for the job that we don’t know about and really haven’t considered?”

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes.  “If you’re wondering if I made the ones I chose, drop their pants in order to earn the right, no, I did not.”

“Maybe, but, to be fair, I should assure you that Fai has nothing at all to be ashamed of,” Saori remarked.  “In fact—"

“How about we change the topic?” Fai growled, cheeks pinking as he reached over and pulled Saori away from her cousin.

“Are you attempting to belittle His Grace’s manliness?” Konstantin growled, looking properly offended at the perception that his tai-youkai might be lacking in any area as he crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at Evan.

“Stand down, Kostya,” Fai muttered.

“How is this normal family conversation?” Taras asked dubiously, shaking his head as he glanced from one face to another.

Yerik chuckled.  “This is entirely messed-up . . .”

“We could compare,” Evan added for good measure, reaching for the button on his jeans.

Sesshoumaru sighed.  “Kagura, fetch Tokijin.  I think it’s time Zelig lost one of his own.”

“No need for that,” the wind sorceress quipped, flicking open a fan, holding it before her lips.  “Whip it out, and I’ll chop it off, hell-spawn,” she went on in a remarkably pleasant tone.

“Granted, I have not seen it, but I assure you, His Grace’s penis is sure to be of incomparable size and stature!” Konstantin bellowed.

Fai heaved a longsuffering sigh and covered his face with a hand.  “Kostya, you’re not helping.”

“Show them, Your Grace!”

This time, Fai shot Konstantin what should have been—might have been—a quelling glower—if his face weren’t ten shades of red . . . “I am _not_ —"

“Then he obviously hasn’t met Bubby yet,” Evan said with a wolfish grin.  “I mean, you wanna talk length and girth? You should see the schlang on him!  It’s gotta be better than a good fo—”

The miscreant cut himself off with a hoot of laughter as a single wind blade exploded at his feet.  Hopping back, he grinned entirely unrepentantly at his great-aunt, and then, he had the audacity to wink at her.

Kagura rolled her eyes, shook her head, but the sparkle in her magenta eyes was unmistakable.

“Fantastic.  I’m never going to be able to look at Bas, ever again,” Rinji grouched.

Konstantin snorted indelicately, crossing his beefy arms over his chest in a show of umbrage.  “Tch!  ‘Tis naught!  That would be little more than a child’s plaything!  I’m certain that His Grace’s penis is at least double that and more!  In fact—”

Yerik sighed.  “Kostya, stop before Fai kills you,” he warned, nodding his head in Fai’s direction.

Konstantin glanced at Fai, then recoiled slightly before managing to put his bravado back into place once more.  “My apologies, Your Grace.”

Fai slowly shook his head, wishing that his skin wasn’t as red as he suspected that it was.   “I don’t think I like this cousin of yours, Saori,” he ventured in a very loud stage whisper.

She giggled.  “Oh, he’s harmless.”

Evan, troublemaker that he was, only grinned.

 

* * *

 

 

Fai leaned back in the chair, staring thoughtfully across the wide expanse of desk at the quartz-youkai, who met his gaze and returned it without blinking.

They’d retired to his office to discuss his part in the whole kidnapping incident since Fai had enough time to clear his head and after watching the man interact with the others for the greater part of the afternoon.

He’d heard everything that the others had told him—most especially, Kagura, Aiko, and, of course, Saori.  The men, it seemed, hadn’t actually dealt with Taras directly, and they were remaining strangely silent on the matter, allowing Fai to draw his own conclusions.

Right now, however, the rest of them were all outside, trying to figure out, just what to do with the gaudy metal statue that Evan had brought along—a wedding gift, he’d said—a work of art created by one of Evan’s best friends, or so he’d also said.  When asked what the fifteen-foot-sculpture was, it hadn’t really surprised Fai to hear that the name of it was Orgasm.  He sighed.

“Tell me why you were working for Evgeni,” Fai asked, settling in for the discussion.

Taras frowned.  “Does it matter?  The beginning and end of it is that I kidnapped your mate, knowing well enough that Evgeni meant to harm her.”

“Then, why did you change your mind?”

“Aside from her, poisoning me, you mean?”

Fai blinked.  “Come again?”

Taras shook his head.  “She poisoned me, so I didn’t really have a choice—and then, she offered me more money than Evgeni was paying me, so it was an easy decision.”

“So, it’s not a question of allegiance,” Fai concluded.

Taras’s expression turned a little more foreboding.  “In my line of work, there isn’t such a thing as allegiance, Your Grace.  It’s all about the bottom line.”

“Why is that?” Fai countered mildly.

Taras seemed a little surprised by the directness of Fai’s question.  “I . . . have my reasons,” he muttered.

“Considering you ought to be trying to convince me to allow you to walk away from here, then I suggest you try being a little more forthcoming,” Fai warned.  “After all, you, alone, survived yesterday, and to be honest, I’m not entirely sure that I should overlook your involvement.  Any way you look at it, you took Saori there, knowing that it was dangerous, and, even if you warned her, that doesn’t excuse what you’ve done.”

The look Taras shot him spoke volumes.  He hadn’t ever really believed any differently, had he, even if Saori had assured him that she’d talk to Fai on his behalf.  “There’s always a risk in my line of work,” he replied.  “It never goes away.  Nine hundred, ninety-nine times, I will succeed.  This is the one time I did not.  Do what you feel is right, Your Grace.  It’s a risk I always weigh.”

Fai shook his head, unable to piece together what Taras said with the reality of it all.  Maybe it seemed almost weirdly noble, but he couldn’t help but to think that there was something else—something far deeper—something that Taras simply didn’t want to talk about . . . He stood up, ventured over to pour a glass of vodka, and, upon second thought, he poured one for Taras, as well.

Maybe it was Saori’s influence, and yet, he couldn’t help but think that maybe she was right.  Perhaps Taras hadn’t told them everything, and maybe the rest of it would make a difference.  After all, simply pursuing money . . . Somehow, Taras didn’t exactly seem the type.  Maybe it was his overall demeanor; Fai didn’t know, but it just might matter a lot, if he could comprehend what drove him . . .

Setting a glass on the desk before Taras, Fai took his time, heading back to the chair he’d vacated.  “You know, you don’t strike me as the type who only cares about the bottom line,” he remarked rather thoughtfully.  “I’ll make a deal with you.  I’ll tell you nothing but the truth if you do the same for me.  Right now, I’ll be honest.  I have no idea, just what to do with you.  If I can ascertain that you’re not a threat to me, then I really have no qualms in allowing you to walk free.  So, you . . . you need to trust me.”

A few emotions flickered vaguely over the quartz-youkai’s features, but none of them were concrete enough for Fai to get a good read on.  The seconds ticked away as Taras tried to come to a decision.  It really all came down to whether or not the man could trust him with his story, Fai supposed.  It wasn’t an easy thing to gauge.

Slouching slightly to the side, Taras rubbed his eyes in a weary sort of way before he reached for the glass that Fai had set before him.  He drained the vodka before he spoke.

“I . . . I have a brother,” he said slowly, haltingly, as though he were measuring what he was saying—how much he was willing to give voice.  “My parents died almost a year ago, and I’ve been caring for him since, taking over his business—mercenary, private detective, often times on the wrong side of it, but Father never got involved, did only what was asked of him.  It was never personal, just a job.  My mother’s brother—my uncle—never approved of my father’s profession, and he . . . He stole my brother away while I was out on a job eight months ago.  He took him.  I was able to trace them to Auckland, New Zealand, but they disappeared in the mountains, and I . . . I can’t find them.”

Fai considered that, carefully watched Taras, trying to detect any hint of a lie.  There was none, and the misery, the irritation in the man’s expression . . . Just how would Fai feel if someone had taken off with Yerik?  He grimaced.  He knew damn well how he’d feel about that.  He’d have moved heaven and earth to find and recover him; that’s what . . .

“So, you’re doing whatever you can do to make money so you can find your brother.  Am I right?”

Taras ground his teeth together but jerked his head once.  “My uncle hails from New Zealand.  He knows the countryside better than anyone.  Those mountains . . . Once you go in there, you’re lost unless you’ve got a native to lead you through.  I may never find Dash, but . . . but I’ve got to try . . .”

Fai nodded slowly, comprehension and understanding dawning upon him as the entire story fell into place—the missing part of it that Fai understood.  A brother—a younger brother . . .

He sighed.  “Taras, can you promise me that you’ll work for only me?  Can you do what you do, but in the name of the tai-youkai?  In return, I’ll see if I can’t find a way to help you regain your brother, but I have to know that your allegiance lies with me.”

Taras’s chin lifted, his eyes brightening as though he hadn’t considered what Fai was offering.  For a moment, he seemed to be considering whether or not he could trust him, but in the end, he slowly nodded.  “I . . . I can do that,” he allowed.

Fai gave a curt nod, too.  “Good.  Now, give me all the information you have on your brother and his whereabouts.  I’ll start by calling Jude Covington, see if he knows anything.”

Taras rubbed his chin, seemed to be thinking about something.  In the end, he just cleared his throat.  “Your Grace . . . I . . . I won’t let you down.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from Fai**_ :  
>  _Like Yerik …_
> 
>  


	72. 071: Resolution

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_71_** ~~  
~ ** _Resolution_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

“So, there I was, in front of what had to be fifty thousand people, getting ready to do, ‘ _There She Blows_ ’, and Deet lets this fart.  It wasn’t just any fart, either—God, no!  It was one of those that could have been heard on Mars, like a sonic-fucking-boom, and he’s right in front of his mic, right?  And, of course, we’re in Japan, and you know how polite you guys are . . . and I’m dying because I’m trying not to laugh, and the more I try not to laugh, the funnier it gets . . .” Trailing off, wiping his eyes as he grinned unrepentantly, Evan slowly shook his head.  “I thought I was going to kick it on the spot . . .”

“Wow,” Saori said, shaking her head as she tried not to laugh, too.  “That’s . . .”

“That’s the best tour story you have?” Rinji growled, shaking his head and looking entirely disappointed.

Evan chuckled.  “It’s the only general-audience-story I got, yes.”

“You’ve disappointed me,” Rinji added.

“On stage?” Konstantin asked, frowning in confusion as he tried to follow the English conversation.

Saori laughed.  “He’s a rock star—maybe the biggest rock star on the planet,” she explained in Russian for the bear’s benefit.  “Zel Roka.”

Konstantin’s eyes flashed open wide—wide enough that Saori had to wonder if they weren’t going to pop right out of his head.  “Zel Roka?  You . . .?  You’re . . . Zel Roka?”

“Who’s Zel Roka?” Taras asked with a marked frown.  “Well, him, I got that, but . . .”

Evan leaned toward Saori.  “Never heard of me, has he?” he asked, nodding once at Taras.

“Apparently not,” she said.  “Sorry.”

He laughed.  “It’s all good!  Why don’t you all come with me?  Take in the show in style . . . You can be my private guests.”

Saori giggled.  “I don’t know if Fai would have time, but you should take them,” she replied, waving her hand toward Yerik, Konstantin, and Taras.

“Are you _kidding?_   That show’s been sold out for . . . Well, maybe within hours of the tickets going on sale,” Yerik blurted.

“Sure . . . I’ll even put you up in the hotel and all that shit,” Evan remarked.  “What about you, Rin?  You in for it?”

“Once was enough,” Rinji replied.  “I haven’t recovered from the last time, thanks.”

“Kami . . . He’s going to ruin his father’s relationship with the Russian people, single-handedly,” Sesshoumaru predicted, setting back in the chair under the wide portico behind the Demyanov castle.

Evan grinned, his gaze turning onto his aunt and great-aunt.  “What about you ladies?  You can be my hunnies for the night.”

Aiko rolled her eyes.  “Hmm . . . What do you think, kaa-chan?  Might be fun . . .”

Kagura smiled rather tolerantly.  “Does it mean you’ll behave yourself for once?”

Evan didn’t reply, but his cheeky grin widened by degrees.  “Now, come on, you guys . . . There’s plenty of room on the jet, and I swear you’ll have a great time.  You, too, Saori.”

Saori bit her lip.  On the one hand, she’d love to go.  Evan’s shows were always so much fun.  She just wasn’t sure that Fai would be willing to drop everything, even just for one night . . . “I’ll talk to Fai, but no promises,” she said.

Evan chuckled.  “Nice . . . But we’ve got to get going in an hour, so you’d all better get moving.”

 

* * *

 

 

The castle was quiet—too quiet.

Fai hated it, actually, and yet again, he berated himself for insisting that Saori go with her family to the concert in Moscow.  Sure, it was only for a couple of nights, and he did have work to catch up on.  Even so . . .

“ _Are you sure I should go?  I mean, I won’t, if you would rather that I stay here with you_ . . .”

 _Fai smiled as Saori paused while packing a small bag for her impromptu trip.  “It’s fine,” he assured her.  “I need to start looking into finding Taras’ brother, not to mention some stuff I got behind on while you were in Japan . . . Guess I didn’t get a whole lot done_.”

 _She smiled at him, leaned up to kiss his cheek before resuming her packing.  “I got behind on the plans for the new orphanage, too,” she admitted.  “Maybe I should stay here—get caught up_ . . .”

“ _And how often do you get to see certain family members—even that one?  Are you sure he’s related to you?  He’s a little_ . . .”

“ _Outrageous?” she supplied when he trailed off_.

“ _I was going to say, ‘assholish’, actually_ . . .”

 _She giggled.  “He’s not that bad!  He’s just a little hyper, is all_ . . .”

“ _Interesting way to put it,” Fai grumbled, remembering the acute embarrassment of the earlier conversation about his penis.  “Anyway, it’s just a couple days, so have fun_.”

 _She bit her lip, shook her head, but smiled at him.  “If you’re sure_ . . .”

 _He rolled his eyes and chuckled.  “Just come home safely_.”

“ _I will, Fai,” she assured him_.

Which left him here, alone.  All of them, even Konstantin and Taras, had gone along.  Somehow, it didn’t surprise him that Yerik was borderline crazy-excited about it.  He’d been a fan of Zel Roka’s music for years.  In fact, Fai seemed to remember Yerik being keenly interested in his English lessons for the sole purpose of understanding those lyrics, and didn’t that just figure, given that pretty much all of his songs were about sex and general debauchery . . .

‘ _You know, Fai, I think that it’d be good to plan a trip, don’t you?_ ’

‘ _A trip?_ ’

‘ _Yes, a trip.  After all, it’s not like you got your honeymoon, now did you?  Maybe things have settled down enough that you could think about it now.  Saori would love it, don’t you think?_ ’

‘ _Maybe, but there’s still a lot to do, not the least of which is to figure out how to go about, implementing the changes that need to be made.  After that . . ._ ’

Dropping into his desk chair, Fai sighed.  He’d done a lot of thinking, both while Saori was in Japan, as well as since the kidnapping, most of it, last night as he laid awake in bed, listening to the sound of Saori’s breathing, savoring the feel of her, so very near . . .

He couldn’t do it alone, and he shouldn’t be expected to, should he?  He’d realized it before.  None of the other tai-youkai did everything on their own.  Every last one of them had people they trusted to help them with the mundane things that really didn’t need to have his attention.  In the beginning, that’s why there were regents put in place, but somehow, his father, although a fine and worthy tai-youkai, had made the mistake of taking a step away from them, and maybe that was one of his greatest mistakes.

It used to be that the regents handled the regular dealings in their regencies—fifteen in all but only ten of those were currently occupied—from local disputes to gathering information on larger problems that ultimately would be brought to the tai-youkai’s attention, and the end result was that it would free up a lot of Fai’s time and bring a peace to the region that hadn’t been there in a long, long time—at least, that was the hope.

The problem was, he wasn’t sure how to go about bridging the gap that had been created so long ago.  He could call for a summit, but somehow, that didn’t seem like the right thing, given that it might well raise the suspicions of the regents, and that wouldn’t be conducive to mending fences.  The trouble was, he wasn’t at all sure, just what he ought to do instead.

‘ _So, ask Saori.  Maybe she has an idea.  She’s good at bringing people together, after all._ ’

Considering that, Fai nodded to himself.  It was a sound idea, really.  Saori . . . She was damn good at that kind of thing . . .

Pushing that line of thought aside, Fai reached for the slim-file where he’d compiled everything that Taras was able to tell him about his brother.  The child—Dmitri ‘Dash’ Stepanovich—was three years old: a quartz-youkai like Taras, both of whom had taken after their mother.  Their father was a pitch-bat-youkai originally from China.  According to Taras, their mother’s brother, a quartz-youkai named Duncan Craig, had kidnapped Dash while Taras was out on a job.

Apparently, he disapproved of Taras’ father’s business and was even more unhappy when Taras had opted to fulfill his father’s obligations when he’d gotten himself caught up in the midst of a job gone wrong.  He’d ended up dead in the process, and their mother had died less than two months later.  At the time, Taras was twenty-two and had just graduated from the university, and Duncan had showed up to help Taras—and to try to convince him to stay on course, to go into business finance, which was what he’d gotten his degree in.

But along with a younger brother, his father had also left a good-sized debt behind, so the long and short of it was that the brothers had no money, either.  Taras needed funds in order to raise his brother, and the best way to make more money fast was to step into his father’s business, much to his uncle’s dismay.

It felt like there was something missing to the story, though.  Why take the child when he could easily have offered to help Taras, instead?  That would have seemed like the most logical thing to do, but if there was more to it, then Taras didn’t appear to know what it could be.  Fai figured that the only one who really could answer that would be the uncle himself, but the odds of getting to those answers were very likely nonexistent.

Letting out a deep breath, Fai reached for the landline phone and hit the button to dial Jude Covington’s office.  He didn’t know if Jude would help him out or not, but it didn’t hurt to ask, he figured . . .

“Jude Covington’s office.  How may I help you?”

“Good afternoon.  This is Fai Demyanov.  I would like to speak to Jude at his earliest convenience.”

“He just got back from lunch.  Let me see if he’s available, Mr. Demyanov,” the secretary said.

Fai rubbed his forehead as the soft sounds of instrumental music came over the line.

It bothered him, damn it.

The memories of those first days after his mother had died, after his father had walked out of their lives were still raw, vivid.  At the time, he hadn’t realized it.  Back then, Yerik had cried a lot.  He was too young to understand that the mother that he wanted so desperately couldn’t come to him, couldn’t make things better in her magical mother way.  Most nights were spent, sleeping fitfully between Yerik’s crying with the child on his chest—the only place where he’d calm down even slightly.

Looking back now, Fai knew that he’d needed Yerik as much as Yerik had needed him—maybe more.  Though he hadn’t intended any such thing, Yerik had inadvertently given Fai focus, reason, a stability in the often-frightening surge of a rapidly changing world.  That had been taken away from Taras, and that . . . Well, it wasn’t all right . . .

“Fai, hello.  Jude here.  Is there something I can do for you?”

Fai sat up a little straighter.  “Jude, I have a report of a man who is said to be hiding in the mountains in New Zealand with his nephew: a child he kidnapped from his brother’s care shortly after their parents died.  I wondered if you had the means of tracking them down.”

“I assume you have more information than that?  I can look into it, but I’m afraid I’m fairly strapped at the moment, as far as having the manpower to spare.  I assume the brother wants the boy back.”

“He does,” Fai agreed.

Jude grunted.  “I can see what I can do, but like I said, it may take some time.  Two of my best hunters have retired, and I’m not sure I have anyone who is familiar enough with the area to conduct an efficient search.  As soon as I can spare someone, though, I’ll be happy to send them out to look.  Can you send me the information you’ve got?”

“Already done,” Fai told him.  “I emailed it on the secure server a couple hours ago.”

Jude let out a deep breath.  It wasn’t a sigh, exactly, but probably as close to one as the man ever made.  “Is the brother familiar with the area?  Maybe it’d be faster to send him in?  As long as he’s not causing mischief, I’ll leave him alone and provide him with the means to bring his brother home, of course.”

“He’s not.  His mother was from New Zealand, but they weren’t raised there.”

He could hear the clicks as Jude recovered the email, and he spent a minute, looking over the assembled reports before he spoke again.  “Messy stuff, family squabbles.  All right, I will tell you what: if you have someone you can send, I won’t hinder them.  Otherwise, I’ll send someone when I can, however, I’d prefer that Craig is allowed to go free.  I’ll let him know that he has no right to the child, of course, but, given the situation, I’d prefer that the man isn’t killed—unless there’s no other way.”

“That’s fair,” Fai agreed.  Even so, he wasn’t sure he had anyone he could send in, either, which was frustrating, given that the brothers had already been separated for longer than they ever should have been.

“Keep me apprised,” Jude concluded.  “I’ll let you know when I’m able to send someone in if I don’t hear from you first.”

The phone call ended, and Fai let out a deep breath as he dropped the receiver into the cradle with a clatter.  All in all, he supposed that it was the best he could have hoped for.  He’d just have to be patient . . . or find another way . . .

 

* * *

 

 

“We went out to eat at a place that’s supposed to have authentic Japanese food—it doesn’t,” Saori quipped, stifling a yawn, but unwilling to give in to the urge to curl up in bed yet.  “We also go to go to the sound check, and that was fun . . . I wish you’d have come with us.”

Fai smiled.  “I’m glad you’re all having a good time.  I have to admit, though.  The idea of seeing your grandfather at one of Zel Roka’s concerts?  It’s kind of short-circuiting my brain a little bit . . .”

Saori giggled.  “Well, you know, I heard this story about Toga-oji-chan going to one of his shows in Tokyo.  Apparently, he was blushing the entire time, considering a lot of the women there decided to bare the goods, so to speak . . .”

“Dear God.”

Her giggling escalated.  “Are you getting your work done?  Did you call Jude-sama?”

That question drew a sigh from him.  “I did,” he told her.  “He said he doesn’t have anyone available yet to send out but that he would as soon as he did, unless I can find someone who’s familiar with that area that can go in and search.”

Saori sighed, too, all traces of laughter dying away.  “No one in my family is familiar with New Zealand, unfortunately . . . I wish someone was.”

“Me, too.”

She was quiet for a long moment.  She felt bad for Taras, but hopefully it would only be a matter of time before he was reunited with his brother.  She’d seen a picture of him—Taras had one on his phone.  The little boy had to look pretty much like Taras did when he was little, she supposed.  The same bluish-white hair like white quartz, the same strange eyes—eyes that held the same iridescent quality of rainbow quartz . . .  She’d seen for herself during their brief time together.  Taras’ eyes seemed to shift in color, depending on the lighting.  There was no doubt whatsoever that those two were siblings . . .

Fai’s soft sigh interrupted her musings, though, and she blinked, focusing her gaze on the phone in her hand.  “So, one of the things I was thinking is that I—well, we—should do something to get to know the regents—maybe to reassure them all that I would value their help,” he said.  “I thought about calling a summit, but I’m afraid that might send the wrong message . . .”

She thought that over.  It made sense.  Given how skittish some of the regents were, with good reason, calling an official meeting was probably not going to be as effective if Fai wanted them to feel as though their positions were being assured.  Doing it in that way might well put some of them on the defensive before they ever arrived . . .

“Well, what about an informal brunch?  They could bring their families, make a day of it . . . You can talk to them without making them feel as though they need to defend themselves, if that’s what you mean,” she suggested.

Fai blinked, frowned slightly as he considered her suggestion.  “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted.  “That’s . . . a good idea . . .”

“Do you want me to make the arrangements?” she offered.  “And, for the record?  I think it’s a great idea!”

He chuckled.  “Can you do that and see to the new orphanage?”

“Are you kidding?  A casual brunch is nothing!  Besides, I’ll bet that the regents would be very interested in seeing the plans for the orphanage, too . . . Speaking of, Evan offered to donate a bunch of instruments for a music room.  I thought that’d be a great idea.”

“Uh, it is,” Fai allowed.  “Tell him thanks.”

“I will.”

A knock on the hotel room door drew her attention, and Saori shuffled over to answer it.  Rinji smiled at her but rolled his eyes when she pointed the cell phone’s camera at him.  “Say hello to Fai,” she said.

“Hello, Fai-sama,” he replied.  “Mind if I take Saori out for a drink?”

“As long as you keep Kostya away from her.  He likes drinking a little too much,” Fai remarked.

“Okay,” Saori said with a soft giggle.  “I’ll call you back later.  I miss you.”

Fai smiled.  “I miss you, too,” he told her.  “Behave yourself.”

With a sigh, she ended the video chat before turning to face her brother.  “Who all’s going?” she asked.

Rinji shrugged.  “Just us.  Thought that’d be all right.  Besides, Yerik’s hanging out with Evan—let’s hope he doesn’t get him into any trouble since that’s what Evan’s good at.  Kaa-san’s talking to tou-san, and . . . and I have no idea where ojii-san and obaa-san are.”

Saori arched an eyebrow as she slipped her shoes on.  “What about Kostya-kun and Taras-san?”

Rinji shook his head.  “I heard Kostya mention something about a strip club, so it’s a safe bet that that’s where they went.”

She shook her head, grabbed her purse.  “I’m surprised that Evan didn’t go there with them.”

“He probably tried, but his manager’s pretty decent at keeping him in line.”

Saori laughed and followed Rinji out of her room.

 

* * *

 

 

Fai let out a deep breath, let his head fall back as he slowly rolled it from side to side, alleviating some of the stiffness that had set in from the last couple hours he’d spent, looking over paperwork that wasn’t important but still needed his signature.

All in all, however, he had to admit, he’d gotten quite a bit done today, which was good.  All that was left, really, was to wait for Saori’s phone call.

It felt different, didn’t it?  Vastly different than when she’d gone back to Tokyo.  The anxiety was gone, and he missed her, sure, but the underlying sense of desperation wasn’t there, either.  No, it was more relaxed, knowing that she was off, enjoying herself, that she’d be home in a couple days.

It was a nice feeling.

Opening his eyes, he glanced at the clock.  Nearly midnight . . .

A curt tap on the door drew his attention, and Fai sat up straight as Vasili opened the door and stepped inside.  “Pardon, Your Grace, but Taine Izanagi is here to see you.”

Pushing himself out of his chair to grab a bottle of water out of the small refrigerator in the wetbar, Fai nodded.  “Show him in.”

The butler nodded and backed out of the room.  A minute later, Taine strode in, his hunt bag slung casually over his shoulder.  “Target’s been silenced,” he said, foregoing a more formal greeting.  “For the record, he wasn’t a water-youkai.  He was a steelhead-bass.”

“Is that right?” Fai countered, holding up a water bottle.  Taine shook his head, and Fai stepped away from the wetbar but waved a hand toward it, inviting Taine to help himself to something else if he liked.  “Interesting . . .”

“Not especially.  Bastard had a mean right hook, though,” he muttered, shifting his jaw from side to side as he scowled at nothing in particular and dropped the bag onto the desk.  “I only used a bit of the funds.”

“Nice work,” Fai remarked, flopping down in his chair once more, watching as Taine strode over to slosh vodka into a glass.  “I, uh, don’t have anything else at the moment, though I’m sure I will soon enough.”

Taine turned, leaned against the wetbar as he casually swirled the contents of the glass in a lazy circle.  “That’s fine.  I have to go back to New Zealand for a bit.”

Fai’s eyebrows shot up.  “New Zealand,” he repeated.

Taine shrugged.  “Not long, though.  Just have to pick up something from home—well, from, uh, my mother . . . Shouldn’t take more than a couple days.”

Fai shook his head.  “No, it’s not that . . . That’s where you’re from, though . . . I mean, how familiar are you with the mountains and such?”

Taine laughed.  “I used to spend weeks—months—in the mountains,” he admitted.  “I guess you could say I’m pretty familiar, sure.”

Fai nodded slowly.  “Is that right . . .?  Then, you might be able to help me with a special assignment?”

Taine’s amusement died slowly as he gazed at Fai, casually lifting a slender hand to drag through his ungodly red hair.  “What kind of assignment?”

Fai considered it for a moment before pushing the slim-file with the details of the abduction across the desk.  “This.”

Taine stared at him a few seconds more before pushing himself away from the wetbar to retrieve the file.

It didn’t take him long to read through it, to scan over the images that Fai had added of Dash Stepanovich and Duncan Craig.  Dark eyebrows, drawing together in a marked frown of concentration, he snapped it closed.  “So, you’re telling me you want me to go there, track down this child, and bring him back.”

“Yes.”

Nodding slowly, Taine downed the vodka and set the glass heavily upon the desk.  “I can try.  I mean, I’m sure I can do it, but it may take a while.  The area is pretty expansive, and chances are, they’re hidden well.  Is this something you want me to do, regardless of how long it could take?”

“Yes.”

Cocking his head to the side, he raised his eyebrows, let them fall back into place once more, and he nodded again.  “All right.”

Only then did Fai smile, just a little.  “Thanks.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>  ** _Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _Nice_ …
> 
>  


	73. 072: Vivication

~~ ** _Chapter_** **_72_** ~~  
~ ** _Vivication_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Saori shuffled down the hallway, eyes glued to her phone as she fired off texts, confirming the last-minute arrangements for the regents’ brunch.  Even before she reached the stairs, she could hear the din below.  The caterers had already arrived and were bringing in food while the tents and tables were being set up outside.  Eleven regents and their families . . . All of them had committed to attending, and they’d be arriving in a couple hours.

To be honest, she was pretty exhausted.  She’d thrown the entire thing together in less than a month, and that, along with the work that she tried to oversee on the new orphanage being built less than ten miles away, took up a lot of time and energy, to the point that she had to admit that she couldn’t wait for the brunch to be over, for her life to slow down just a little bit.

Fai was going to give a speech, outlining his ideas for the regents, what he expected of them, what he hoped would come from it all, what his plans were for how he wished to proceed, and then Saori had asked Director Bostoyev to give a presentation on the new orphanage.

After that, she’d hired a string quartet to play for entertainment while everyone was encouraged to mingle and get to know each other.  It sounded simple enough, but she’d gone to great lengths to make sure that everything promoted an open, friendly atmosphere.

“Saori, it looks like they’re setting up for the circus out there,” Yerik remarked, falling into step beside her at the top of the staircase.

“Oh, you’re back!” she exclaimed.  He’d been sent out on a hunt, and she hadn’t known if he’d return in time for the brunch or not.

“Late last night,” he replied.  “I thought I’d sleep in, but, well . . .”

She made a face, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.  “Sorry about that.”

He chuckled.  “It’s fine.  As long as I can get some coffee, I’ll be good.”

“I could ask them to keep it down if you’d rather go back to bed,” she offered.

He waved off her concern with a good-natured grin.  “I’ll sleep in tomorrow.”

Saori grinned.  “You sure?  I mean, there are going to be some girls here—and you’re quite a catch, you know?”

He rolled his eyes but chuckled.  “God forbid, Saori . . . and you’d better not encourage it, either,” he warned.

“Okay, okay,” she relented.  “But if someone should ask me . . .”

“No,” he reiterated.  “I’m far too young to settle down, anyway.  Direct them toward Rinji.  He can handle it, I’m sure.”

Saori laughed as Yerik stepped away, heading through the foyer toward the kitchen, probably searching for the aforementioned coffee.

To her surprise, Fai had asked Rinji if he would act as regent for one of the vacated areas, and even more surprisingly, her brother had accepted, at least, until a permanent one could be named.  Fai, however, didn’t seem to be in a hurry to look for another, and Rinji didn’t seem to mind, either.  That only left three regencies open—four, if one counted Konstantin’s since he was technically heir to the Siberian regency.  Then again, Konstantin had mentioned that his parents were considering having another child, which could mean that he could stay where he was if his parents did have another son.

She was about to head toward Fai’s office to see if she could drag him out of there, but she frowned.  She could feel his presence, and it wasn’t coming from that direction, and she turned and followed Yerik, instead.

She found Fai in the kitchen, slowly examining the dishes that were arriving.  Pausing here and there to taste things, he had a thoughtful scowl on his face, and she pressed her lips together to keep from laughing outright.

“Does it meet your approval?” she asked, sidling up beside him as he continued his inspection.

He grunted.  “The lamb is good.  The borsht is salty.”

“But it doesn’t have kelp,” she quipped.

He snorted.  Loudly.  “Perhaps you don’t realize this, Saori, but every Russian house is judged on their ability to make good borscht.”

She rolled her eyes.  “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Fine is not great,” he insisted.  “Maybe I have time—”

“You will not,” she told him firmly, shaking her head to emphasize her point.  “You are not going to stress out over borscht.  I forbid it.”

Cocking an eyebrow at her, he slowly turned his face toward her, his hazel eyes sparkling in an almost lazy kind of way.  “Is that right?”

She nodded once.  “That’s right.  Besides, you should enjoy yourself today, too.”

He replied with a heavy sigh as he slipped his arms around her instead.  “There’s a reason I don’t host things like this,” he told her.

“You’ll be fine,” she assured him.  “Is that what you’re wearing?”

He blinked, leaned back to glance down at himself before cocking an eyebrow at her.  “Is there something wrong with this?”

She laughed since he was wearing the same, standard dark slacks and button-down shirt he normally wore.  “I suppose casual is good,” she allowed.  “But I bought a special dress for the occasion—nothing fancy, but nice, so you might look a little—”

He rolled his eyes and kissed her quickly to cut her off.  “All right,” he relented.  “I’ll put something nicer on . . .”  Trailing off, he narrowed his gaze and jerked his head.  She turned to see who he was gesturing at, only to see Yerik, clad in a rumpled pair of faded jeans and a baggy black tee-shirt, leaning against the counter with a mug in one hand and a carafe in the other, slugging back the brew as fast as he could.  “Did you tell him he had to change?”

“I didn’t tell you that you had to,” she pointed out.

He snorted.  “Did you?”

Saori giggled.  “I didn’t,” she told him.  “But he’s not tai-youkai—you are.”

Heaving a longsuffering sigh, Fai held onto her for another moment before letting his arms drop away.  “Well, then, allow me to go change so that I don’t embarrass you, Your Grace.”

She laughed and hurried after him to change her clothes, too.

 

* * *

 

 

“Your Grace!  Thank you so much for inviting us to your home!”

Fai smiled at the golden-langur-youkai—one of the Chinese regents.  “I’m glad you could make it,” he replied.  “I . . . I vaguely remember you from one of Mother’s parties years ago . . .”

The regent—Huang Jian—smiled broadly, obviously pleased that Fai remembered him at all.  “Your mother . . . Her Grace was an honorable woman, indeed.  We were all very saddened to learn of her untimely death.”

“Thank you,” Fai said.

He had to admit, borscht aside, that the brunch was entirely well-received.  The general tone overall was good, especially given that he’d half-feared that it would end up badly.  The regents seemed to be genuinely excited to be told of their inclusion in Fai’s tenure, and the first official discussion that he’d had with most of them was asking for their suggestions for regents in the vacated areas.  He might not take every one he’d gotten so far, but he’d look into them all.

It was a big step, wasn’t it?  Opening himself to trust these men . . . It went against everything that Fai had thought he believed, and yet . . .

“I brought this for you,” Huang said, drawing Fai’s attention out of his thoughts.  Handing him a sealed envelope, the man smiled.  “It’s the official report for this quarter—details regarding some youkai that are rumored to be troublesome, general information about the issues that are unique to my regency—that sort of thing.”

Fai nodded.  “I’ll look it over.  Thank you.  This should be very helpful.”

Huang bowed low.  “Of course, of course!  I’ve been documenting everything, as I’ve always done, so if you wish to see the older reports, I can send them, Your Grace.”

“Just Fai’s fine,” he said.

Huang’s smile disappeared, and he looked rather alarmed.  Fai stifled a sigh.  “Oh, I . . . I couldn’t . . . Your Grace, I—”

Fai nodded.  “If you’re more comfortable, addressing me with that, then it’s fine, but honestly, I’d prefer Fai.  Your Grace . . . That always felt more like my father.”

Huang still looked rather conflicted, but in the end, he nodded.

“Fai!  Hey . . . Uh, excuse me,” Yerik said, grasping Fai’s arm as he nodded at the regent.  “Thanks . . .”

Huang quickly moved away.  Yerik waited until he was out of earshot before turning toward his brother.  “I . . . need help . . .”

Fai sighed.  “Oh, God . . . What now, Yerik?”

Yerik made a face, dragged Fai inside.  Letting his hand drop from Fai’s arm, he grimaced, leaning to the side to peer through the French doors for a moment before finally meeting his brother’s gaze once more.  “It’s, uh . . . Fiancée Number Two . . .”

“Fiancée Num— _What?_ ” Fai blasted.

Yerik shushed Fai, glancing around almost feverishly to make sure that they weren’t being overheard.  “It’s not my fault, Fai!  Seriously, I mean . . . I was . . . maybe seven?  And she had cookies— _real_ cookies.  I mean, her mother is American, and she made snickerdoodles . . .”

“Oh, for the love of—” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Fai slowly shook his head.  “So, go tell her you don’t want her cookies anymore, and that’ll be that,” he growled.

Yerik sighed.  “I wish!  She brought a slim-file with all her wedding ideas— _wedding_ , Fai!  She’s even picked out my tuxedo . . .”

Staring at Yerik for a long moment, Fai finally shook his head.  “Well, Yerik, looks like you’re getting married, then.”

Yerik flinched.  “Damn my love of American cookies . . .”

Fai rolled his eyes as the door slid open and Saori stepped inside.  “Why are you two hiding in here?”

“Yerik’s getting married,” Fai said before Yerik could answer.

Saori blinked, glancing from Fai to Yerik and back.  “Again?”

Fai shrugged.  “Cookies.”

Saori nodded sagely.  “What kind?”

“Snickerdoodles.”

She continued to nod.  “I haven’t had those— _wa-a-a-a-ait_ . . . Are those the ones that are rolled in cinnamon sugar before they’re baked?”

“God, yes!” Yerik exclaimed.

Saori gasped slowly, her eyes widening.  “Those _are_ good . . . Gin-oba-chan made them once when we were visiting . . .”

“Look at it this way, Yerik.  At least you’ll get cookies from your future wife,” Fai pointed out reasonably.

Yerik groaned.  “You realize, don’t you?  Your chances of winning the Brother-of-the-Year award is fading faster and faster and faster.”

Fai shook his head.  “And yet, I don’t care,” he shot back.  “Go out there and tell her that you no longer want her cookies.  Be a man.”

Yerik heaved a very put-upon sigh and stomped back outside as Saori covered her twitching lips with her slender fingers as she watched his retreat.  “That was mean, Fai-sama,” she remarked rather mildly.

“Cookies,” he grumbled, shaking his head as he watched his brother, skulking around, apparently trying to avoid Fiancée Number Two.  “Sama?”

Saori nodded solemnly, which was then promptly ruined when she giggled.  “You’re not really going to let your brother suffer, are you?”

This time, Fai sighed again.  “I should.  I mean, I really should.  Just why would he go around, asking girls to marry him?”

“I think it’s rather cute . . .”

He snorted.  “You would.”

Slipping her arm around his waist, she sighed, but it was an entirely contented kind of sound, and she leaned her temple against his chest.  “I was thinking . . .”

“Hmm?” he prompted when she trailed off, idly rubbing her bare shoulder as he continued, staring outside.

“It’s just . . . I’m . . . I’m really happy, you know?  With you . . . Happier than I ever thought I could be . . .”

Frowning slightly at the slightly roughened quality of her voice, Fai leaned back far enough to look at her face.  She wasn’t smiling, no, but her blue-grey eyes were bright—beautiful.  Pale skin, touched with just the barest hint of color, rouged lips, quivering just a little, and she smiled at him.  “You’re happy with me.”

She nodded.  “I was thinking, you know?  What if . . .?  What if I hadn’t . . . appropriated you?  Do you think we’d have found each other then?”

“I . . . I don’t know.  I’d like to think so.”

Her smile widened.  “Me, too.”

It was true, wasn’t it?  Saori . . . She was meant to be here—here with him . . . She’d changed him, hadn’t she?  Without really trying . . . Maybe it was simply the way that she lived her life, the way she saw things in such a simple way . . .

Trust and love and understanding . . . She’d given those things to him—more than he’d ever really given to her, he was sure.  Those lessons . . .

But it was her smile, her laughter, the beguiling innocence that she wore like a second skin . . . Everything about her spoke to him, had ingrained themselves so deeply into him that he couldn’t remember a time before she’d come into his life, and everything about that . . . It was humbling and awe-inspiring and breathtaking and gentle.  She’d brought a vivication to his world that he hadn’t even realized he needed, and now . . .

He only stopped to think about it for a moment before he stepped back, grabbed her hand, dragged her through the foyer toward the stairs.

“Fai?  What are you doing?” she asked in a bemused tone, giving a token resistance that really wasn’t resistance, at all.

“They’ll never miss us,” he said without stopping, tugging her hand, pulling her after him, up the stairs.

“You can’t mean—!”

“I’ll make it quick,” he assured her.

She opened her mouth to protest, then smashed her free hand over her lips as she broke into a round of giggles.  “Well, I guess . . . if we’re quick . . .”

He laughed and paused long enough to kiss her—a sweet kiss designed to show her every single thing he felt—before resuming his trek up the stairs.  “Even if we’re not, we’re still newlyweds, right?” he asked, peering over his shoulder at her, cocking an eyebrow to emphasize his question.

She blushed prettily but didn’t try to pull away.  “Well, when you put it that way . . .”

He laughed and kept moving.  Saori did, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Final_** _**Thought** **from**_ **_Fai_** :  
>  _Cookies_ …


	74. 73: Epilogue: Bad Habits

~~ ** _Epilogue_** ~~  
~ ** _Bad Habits_** ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

~ _Sunday,_ _June 12, 2072_ ~  
~ _Demyanov Castle_ ~

 

~ ** _o_** ~

 

 

Lounging against his right shoulder in the doorway, slowly shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest and almost smiled—almost—Fai watched as Saori, surrounded by the orphans who were in her charge for the weekend, herded their ‘prey’ through the garden and toward the veranda.  The children looked inordinately proud of their accomplishment, as did Saori.  The captives, however . . .

Fai nearly grimaced but managed to keep his expression entirely blanked.  Trussed up like game fowl on the way to the butcher’s block, they were, and some of them were behaving a little better than the others, all things considered.

To be completely honest, he wasn’t entirely sure, just how Saori had managed to talk those four into cooperating for the exercise.  Then again, he supposed it didn’t really surprise him.  After all, she . . .

Well, she had a way with people, in general, now didn’t she?  Not one of them, it seemed, was really able to resist her, and that was fine with Fai.  After all, he’d had a few meetings he couldn’t get out of, so he really wasn’t able to drop everything to help her with the weekend excursion, even though he’d wanted to.

So, Saori, Dmitri, and the rest of the orphanage staff had taken the children, deep into the forest behind the castle for the weekend, camping, fishing, brushing up on their skills—and spending the time, trying to hunt down the four targets with very little help from the adults.  It looked like they were all able to successfully locate and apprehend them, too . . .

He sighed, the smile finally surfacing on his lips as the children started to climb pile onto the stone patio.  Yerik shot his brother a cheeky grin, giving a little shrug as his captors danced around him, jeering at him, basically refusing to let the hunter forget that he had been captured by what looked to be three mid-teenage kids.  It wasn’t surprising in the least that Saori had no trouble at all in gaining his compliance.  Yerik rarely said no to his sister-in-law, after all.

Next up the steps was Konstantin, who was still grumbling loudly about the youths ‘callous’ treatment of him since his capture.  Saori caught Fai’s eye and giggled, covering her amusement with a quick cough into her balled-up fist.  From what he could gather from Kostya’s complaints, the children had dealt him dirty, leaving him tied up all night since they’d apparently brought him in on Saturday.

Behind him came Taras, along with his younger brother, who seemed to be having the time of his life, herding his brother around.  The youngster, Dash, was even leading Taras around by a long chain that was secured to his belt.  Taras, on the other hand, was at least trying to pretend to be properly offended.  He struck Fai as the type who wasn’t entirely sure, how to be a carefree young man, but he was trying, and that, Fai was certain, was due to Saori’s influence.

It had taken nearly eight months to track down the boy and their uncle in the rough terrain of the New Zealand landscape, but Taine had done well, and he’d brought Dash back easily enough, but the uncle, unfortunately, had made like a coward and sneaked away.  Taine had decided that bringing the boy back was far more important than trying to track down the uncle again, and, in the long run, he was right.  Taras and Dash were inseparable, and that was good enough for everyone involved, and Taras had set up an information office, gathering intel from all over the region and most often, coming up with stuff that Fai would never have been able to find out on his own.  Earning an honest living that he could be proud of?  Taras was damned good at what he did, and he had every reason to be damned proud, too.

Last and most surprisingly, however, was Taine, who was pretty well duct taped almost like a mummy, along with the group of four teenaged girls who apparently had something to prove.  Narrowing his eyes, grimacing slightly as he considered how much effort it was going to be to get Taine out of that mess, Fai slowly shook his head again.

Now, though, the kids were having some difficulty in deciding what, exactly, to do with their quarry.  They all seemed to be whispering within their small groups while giving their targets rather calculating looks—looks that made Fai hide a smile of his own behind a strategically raised hand.

“How did you get Taine to agree to let himself be hunted?” he asked as Saori hurried over, slipped her arms around his waist.

“Oh, I didn’t ask him,” she replied, giving Fai a quick squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hmm?”

She wrinkled her nose.  “Well, I . . . I might have just . . . um . . . grabbed him by the hand and dragged him off with us . . .”

Fai blinked.  “You . . . You _kidnapped_ one of my hunters?” he deadpanned.

“No,” she argued, shaking her head stubbornly.  “I _appropriated_ him.  _Huge_ difference.”

Fai snorted loudly.

“It worked with you,” she offered, the smile that curved on her lips, entirely unrepentant.

“Only because I wanted you to appropriate me . . .” He sighed.  “We really need to discuss this penchant of yours of appropriating people,” he complained.

She giggled.  “I’ll appropriate you later on, Fai,” she offered, raising her eyebrows, her voice falling to a husky purr.

He gave up with a chuckle.  “I think I’d be okay with that, Saori.  Just, uh . . . none of that with them, understood?”

Her answer was a loud laugh as she pulled him down for a kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

~ ** _The_** **_End_** ~

 

 

 

 

_1:10 am_   
_June 11, 2018_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Well, that’s it … I hope you enjoyed this section of my brain lol … Feel free to join me in **Purity** **Zero** … Since **Anhanguera** is such an intense story, I’m going to keep it as secondary while posting **Zero** as my main work.  I’m going to take a week off then start posting **Purity** **Zero** starting on July 9.  Until then, the prologue and the first chapter are already posted, so give them a read_ …
> 
> == == == == == == == == == ==
> 
>  ** _Final Thought from Saori_** :  
>  _All’s well that ends well_!

**Author's Note:**

>  _Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in **Vivication** ):  I do not claim any rights to **InuYasha** or the characters associated with the anime/manga.  Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al.  I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize_.
> 
> ~ _Sue_ ~


End file.
